


Wake of Destruction

by Kattz_1905, TouchoftheWind



Category: Angel: the Series, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-23 17:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 28,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kattz_1905/pseuds/Kattz_1905, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TouchoftheWind/pseuds/TouchoftheWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not enough that Wolfram and Hart lost their hold on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bucket List

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sadly
> 
> Notes: Spoilers for Angel 5.22 "Not Fade Away" and AU tag for Stargate Atlantis 4. . In response to a challenge made by TouchoftheWind  
> [ Ultimate Family Connor Challenge](tthfanfic.org/Story-19280-6/TouchoftheWind+The+Ultimate+Family+Connor+Challenge.htm)  
>  

[ ](http://s225.photobucket.com/user/TouchoftheWind/media/WakeofDestructionLargeBanner2.jpg.html)

A/N: This banner was made by the wonderful TouchoftheWind. I'd also like to thank her for babbling at me. Your babbles are awesome :)

**Chapter One: Bucket List**

Connor stares at the cake. It was slightly burnt around the edges and sunken in the middle. His eyes flicker towards the housekeeper sitting at the table and then back at the cake. No matter how hard he stares, the cake refuses to change. It smells okay, so maybe—He cuts a slice and places it in front of Mrs. Layla. She gives it a wary look, pokes it with her fork and looks back at Connor. He smiles. She takes up a piece of it with her fork, puts it in her mouth and chews.

“Well? How is it?” she swallows and drains her cup.

“Oh, hunny,” she coughs, “that was awful.”

Connor groans and bangs his head on the table. She pats him on the shoulder.

“It's okay Connor. Baking is an art and it takes practice.”

He glares at her. “You’re laughing at me.”

“It is impolite to laugh at others,” she informs him, eyes twinkling.

“You’re practically hysterical,” he mutters. He stands and heads back to the counter. Luckily he had come prepared. He places an Apple-pie from her favorite bakery on the table and cuts slices for the both of them.

“You were supposed to lie to me, you know. You were supposed to tell me it was the best cake ever.”

“It was really awful.”

“I can have you fired.”

“I changed your diapers,” she offers. “You also had an aversion to clothes.”

She takes a moment to savor the flavor. “I have pictures.”

Connor ducks his head and shovels more pie into his mouth.

“More tea, dear?”

\--

“No.”

“What?”

“Grandpa, I’m not interested in the company. I like Linguistics. I’m not changing my major.”

Patrick Sheppard is an old dog that refuses to learn a new trick. No matter how many times they have this conversation, he refuses to take no for an answer. It is probably why his business is so successful.

Problem is Connor’s just as stubborn and has a serious problem with authority.

“You don’t know what you want,” he loves his grandfather but sometimes…

“I know what I don’t want,” Connor snaps back, “It’s the twenty-first century. Children don’t have to follow in their parent’s footsteps. Dad may have wanted that life but I don’t.”

“Why don’t you enlighten me then? What does Connor Angel Sheppard want to do with his life?”

And Connor is surprised. It’s the first time he’s been ask and it’ll probably be the last time. Connor meets his eyes and tells him in his most sincere voice, “I want to be a Mime.”

“This is not a laughing matter. The family business—“

“-- is fine,” he interrupts, “And it will still be fine when I finish my degree. You’re so obsessed with the business that there isn’t room for anything else. You should spare some of that intensity for your family.”

“I love my family,” Patrick stands, slamming his hands on the desk.

“I know you do. I also know that you’re good at running them off,” that’s probably going a bit far but Connor has never learned how to hold his tongue.

“I’ve told that father of yours multiple times to teach you some manners.”

Connor responds with a sympathetic look. “He never listens to good advice, does he? I mean, I keep telling him to have you committed but does he listen? No!”

And maybe Connor should call an ambulance because he’s pretty sure that his Grandfather’s face should not be turning purple.

\--

Connor watches his dad from the bedroom door. “I think Grandpa finally cracked. He’s in his study mumbling about mimes. Either that or he’s afraid of mimes. We should get him some help. It may seem silly to us but Metamfiezomaiophobia is no laughing matter!”

“Connor,” Connor walks towards the bed and gives the suitcase an irritable look.

“Why are you packing?”

“I know we were supposed to spend the rest of the day together but there’s a problem I have to deal with at the New York office.”

“Let someone else deal with it. You’re the boss, Dad. That means you don’t have to take care of every single problem yourself,” he really wants to do something childish. Like unpack the suitcase or hide his dad’s laptop.

“How about this; I’ll come down to Palo Alto and we can spend the weekend together?”

“I like my idea better. It’s just for tonight. You can leave for New York in the morning. It’s not often that a teenager off at college wants to spend time with his Dad. You should take advantage of it before I lose myself to sex, drugs and alcohol.”

David frowns and turns back to the bed. “This weekend. I promise. You can show me what the kids nowadays get up to.”

Connor grits his teeth in frustration. “Dad, I’ve been trying to pin you down for the past two months. One night, that’s all I’m asking.”

“I really do have to go. We can do whatever you want this weekend,” Connor follows him out the room and down the stairs.

“I don’t want to do anything then. I want to watch those stupid black and white movies you like, tonight. Come on, Dad. Popcorn, soda, and obnoxiously sweet romantic movies…what more could you ask for?”

David grins. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be caught dead watching those.”

They stop in front the door and Connor turns to look at him. David isn’t sure what it is about that look but it makes his heart clench and he’s struck with the sudden desire to stay.

“You like them,” and Connor continues to stare at him. It makes David think that Connor is trying to tell him something and it has nothing to do with the fact that he works too much.

“This weekend,” David offers.

Connor smiles. It’s bright, sweet and utterly heartbreaking and David doesn’t understand why.

“Sure,” the whole situation makes even less sense when his son hugs him. Connor is not a tactile person. He’ll tolerate hugs from Layla and his father and perhaps his grandfather if he were so inclined. Connor is a friendly and outgoing person. David doesn’t deny that. In fact he could be infuriatingly upbeat but Connor has not initiated a hug since he was five. He was uncomfortable in emotional situations and made saying the most improper things at the most inappropriate times an art form.

David wraps his arms around him and is disturbed when Connor tightens his hold and buries his face in his chest. “You okay, kid?” he moves back enough to tilt Connor’s face up.

“Sure.” Connor steps back and opens the door. David hesitates a moment, then picks up his bag.

“Goodbye, Dad.”

David stops and studies his son. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Sure, Dad.”

David can’t get that moment out of his head as he sits in the back of the limo. These last couple of months, Connor has done and said things that confuse him, but this is the first time he’s been so disturbed by his son’s behavior.

“Are you alright, sir?” his assistant asks.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong but he’ll find a way to fix it. “Clear my schedule for this weekend.”

\--

It’s pathetic, Connor thinks, that there are only three things on his list. He’s not even the least bit bitter that the one he tried the hardest to do was the one he couldn’t complete.

**BUCKET-LIST**

_.Spend time with Dad_

_.Piss Grandpa off_

_·Do something nice for Mrs. Layla_

Nope. Not bitter at all.

Calling it a Bucket-List may be a bit dramatic but this life would be over for him by the end of the week. He shuts the notebook in disgust and sighs. He’d made his decision the same night Angel died breaking Wolfram and Hart’s hold on this dimension. He’ll take the fight to them. It wasn’t enough that their hold was broken here. Connor is determine take them down.

He’s going to spend the rest of the day with his grandfather and Mrs. Layla because tomorrow he leaves for Palo Alto and his plan to leave this dimension begins. He isn’t worried about the consequences…about the chance that he will fail.

Because Connor knows how to hold a grudge and he’s going to make sure they feel his wrath.

\--

Three days later, Connor finds him-self alone in a warehouse with a bag of weapons at his feet. He takes a knife and cuts deep.

“It always starts with blood,” he mutters as he watches the blood drip to the floor. He tries to remember what it felt like the day he punched and clawed his way out of Quor’toth. He pictures the day he chased that demon; the exhilaration and fury that fills him in every fight. Two very different emotions that once fueled him and brought about his instincts of chasefightkill that made him a force to be reckon with.

Connor doesn’t think about what it will look like when the police find his car or the blood. He doesn’t think about the family he’s leaving behind or the life he’s carved out for himself. He can’t afford to have doubts or attachments. He knows that if he wants to take the Partners on, he’s going to have to leave everything that made him Connor, whether that be Angel’s or David’s son, behind and embrace who he once was.

He needs to remember what it felt like not to hesitate with his prey—how it was before he found out that demons can be good and the terrible things that humans did.

He’s made his decision and nothing will stop him from doing this. He’ll chase them from dimension to dimension and destroy their power bases and territories. He’ll rip apart anyone that gets in his way until he finally stands face to face with the Partners.

And he’ll thank them.

He’ll thank them for bringing his mother back and for everything they’ve done that, intentionally or not, brought about his birth.

He’s not going kill them. No, he won’t even try. He’ll show them their ruined territories because that’s the worst possible thing he can do to them. Take away their power and show them just how insignificant they are.

Taking them down will be worth everything. Angel taught him that. Angel’s been fighting his war with them for years and in the end gave up everything to bring them down. Angel and his friends died on the off chance that the Senior Partners wouldn’t be able to carry out their plans on Earth and Connor understands. As much as it hurts to know he’ll never see Angel again, he understands. When he’d first made his decision he was so filled with rage he couldn’t stop shaking.

And maybe he’s still mad. Mad at Angel. Mad at Them. Maybe that anger has burn so hot it leaves behind tranquility and thoughts as clear as glass but he understands. Understands what Angel meant. No more deaths. No more manipulations.

No more. No more. No more.

Angel said ‘Enough is enough!’

Well Connor’s here and he’s saying ‘Enough! No more!’

It was time to show them why the demons of Quor’toth called him ‘The Destroyer’.

Connor draws his blood covered fist back.


	2. Wraith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are universal...

He stumbles through the portal and starts running. His Assassin has never found him immediately after entering a new dimension. It usually takes him months, years and on one occasion he’d traveled through two dimensions before they had ran (literally) into each other. His instinct tells him to put as much space between him and his arrival point as he can. Listening to that little voice that tells him to _runhideduck_ has served him well in the past and he’s not about to ignore it now.

Pain shots up his side and his right leg protests loudly that broken bones are not meant to walk on let alone run. Trees blur and animals scurry away but he doesn’t take the time to process his surrounds beyond the knowledge that he’s in a forest, its night and he’s alone. Hearing voices in the wind, he abruptly turns and heads in a different direction.

He doesn’t stop until he can no longer hear the inhabitants of this new dimension. He’s been through this process so many times that he no longer has to think about it. Find water, food and shelter. Observe the locals before approaching them.

He licks his lips and sets about the tedious task of setting his own bone.

\---

A week (by his count) passes before he decides to ventures closer to the inhabitants. A giant circle sits in a clearing next to a path that leads to the closest village. The village is inhabited by humans which, after all he’s seen, isn’t surprising. They speak English (which is) and as far as he can see, there’s no sign of the Partners presence. There have been dimensions he’s traveled to that either the Partners never went to or the inhabitants drove them out.

He’s back at the Circle, watching a group of humans, when the Circle makes a loud noise and starts to light up. Seven symbols appear one right after the other, before a puddle of water suddenly explodes from it. The humans had moved out of reach from the water and didn’t seem surprised.

He isn’t either. The key to survival is an open mind. So while it’s odd, it wasn’t something to get worked up over. Even when the demons walk out of the water, he isn’t disturbed.

The humans, on the other hand, are. 

He hasn’t survived as long as he has by jumping into every altercation between humans and demons he sees. So he doesn’t interfere when the humans start to scream and run. He doesn’t move from his hiding place when the demons shoot their guns of blue light and really? Really?

He does interfere when a demon grabs a woman, presses his palm to her chest and she grows old. Before he reaches them he knows that the woman is dead. There are many, many demons that use humans as their food source and they each have different ways of feeding.

This was new.

He’s stepping over the withered husk before he realizes it and hits the demon. The clearing quiets as everyone takes in the demon that sails across to the other side and he takes the moment to wonder if he’d hit the demon harder than he’d wanted.

It doesn’t take long before the demons are concentrating their efforts on him. A sense of elation spreads though him as it does whenever he fights and he can’t help grinning. This is what he lives for. There are the battles when every moment may be his last; if he just isn’t fast enough or he blocks when he should have dodged. Knowing he could die fuels him and makes the fights just that much better.

Then there are the battles that are more like warm ups. Where he can take his time and taunt.

Just like this one.

They weren’t especially fast or strong. Stronger and faster than a human but slightly less so than a vampire.

Perfect for letting off steam and not re-injuring himself.

Until he gets hit by one of the blue lights. It doesn’t hurt so much as makes his entire body numb. He shrugs it off just in time for a demon to pick him up and slam him into a tree. It knocks the wind out of him and he kicks out, knocking it away from him.

The second shot makes him stumble. While the guns weren’t going to kill him, it was probably best to avoid them. Which was a good decision considering the third shot momentarily brings him to a knee.

It becomes a game. Avoid the blue lights and hit the demons. Five points if he makes them shoot each other…ten if he walks right up to one and avoids each blast.

It’s the simple moments in life that brings joy.

And it is fun. It’s also hysterical to watch predators when their prey fights back. Then again, he’s never been ‘prey’. Not really. Oh, he knows what it’s like to be hunted…to think he’s going to die. But he’s never felt helpless before. Even when he fights his Assassin. He’s fought hundreds of them but that one he’s never defeated. Even when they’re both broken and he loses the upper hand, all he can do is grin and think ‘I can’t die now. We have to do this again’.

He doesn’t understand despair…has never experience that moment of resignation.

He wonders idly if that’s what the last demon is feeling as he stalks up to it and it backs away. Wonders, as its yellow eyes widens, if it is thinking of its own mortality and how easily its friends died. He wonders, even as his fist exits through the demon’s back, if he’ll one day look at his Assassin like that should he lose that fight.

Probably not…he’s never been any good at playing prey.

\--

He makes his way to the stream and washes the gore off his hands. When he’s done he meets his reflection in the water.

He hates it.

No matter how many times he looks, the image doesn’t change.

He looks exactly same. It angers him because he’s been doing this for years and years and his own face taunts him.

He isn’t sure if he’d just stop aging or if it’s just slowed but it’s as though his face is trying to say ‘Nothing’s change and it never will’.

And he refuses to believe that.

\--

Cronin, son of Ver’d, didn’t think much of it when he hears the faint echo of the Circle activating. His people were traders and it wasn’t uncommon for the Circle to be in use. It wasn’t until later when four members of the group sent to sell bladed weapons, came running back to the village, that he knew something was wrong.

His first thought was of the Wraith. Before they get into hearing range, he’s already directing people into hiding. The Wraith has not visited his world in the memory of four generations but from the moment the Atlantians woke the Wraith, many worlds have been Culled to extinction and he prays to the Ancestors that this will not be the end of his people.

It’s a shock when one of the blacksmiths tells them of a boy who killed the Wraith. When he is described, Cronin’s first instinct is that the boy is a Runner. It would explain the brutality used to kill the Wraith. It doesn’t explain the Wraiths’ apparent surprise.

They don’t venture out to the Circle until the next day… when they’re sure no more Wraith will come. Cronin has never seen this level cruelty before. He has fought the Wraith on other worlds. He has seen what they can do to humans and what humans can do to them. He didn’t see the fight but he can tell by the way that the bodies are thrown around its just—they gather the bodies to burn.

He is grateful for what the boy did but he hopes they never meet.

\--

They do meet.

The second time the Wraith come through the Circle and he witnesses the boy fight. Even covered in dirt and rags he can see how young he is. It’s unbelievable that a child, and that is exactly what he is, could possibly be capable of such levels of destruction.

In the village, the boy would, perhaps, have just entered maturity but as Cronin watches him he sees a child playing a deadly game. And that scares him more than the way he kills because this boy isn’t fighting for his life or to protect others.

He’s doing it because he enjoys it. He kills with a smile on his face and Cronin would really like to meet the fool who taught this child to fight.

\--

The next time they meet, Cronin deliberately seeks him out. It takes a while because he can’t find any tracks or evidence that boy exists and settles for wondering the forest.

In the end it’s the boy who finds him.

“You looking for me?” Cronin startles and turns around. The voice is soft and husky with disuse.

“I am Cronin, son of Ver’d,” the boy doesn’t offer his name but he does offer food. Perhaps this is just what he needs to discern if his people will have an opponent worst than the Wraith to fight.

\--

Months pass and the demons come. He is always there to meet them. They never come in more than groups of six and he takes that to mean that they are all from different groups.

Life in this dimension was boring which he equated to being peaceful. When there were no demons to kill he hunted and rested. Sometimes he’d trade his kills for clothing and, on one occasion, a positively wicked knife.

He never spent much time in the village; the people were either terrified of him or worshiped him. Cronin was one of the few he voluntarily made contact with. The man wasn’t actively afraid of him but he didn’t think he was a gift sent by the Ancestors.

He was told that the demons were called Wraith and the Circle led to different world. At first he assumed that meant that it was a portal to different dimensions but the way it was explained it kind of sounded like it led to different planets.

He learns about Cullings and Darts and he has enough to deal with, without adding aliens into the mix. He’s still dead set on the Wraith being demons though.

This world was one of the strangest he’s ever encountered but some things were universal.

They called him Destroyer of Wraith.


	3. Those Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at those Connor left behind.

David arrives at the dorm Connor insisted on staying in and makes his way to the room. He hopes that he’ll be able to find out what’s bothering his son. He knocks on his son’s door and isn’t surprised when a half dressed irritable boy opens the door. He is surprised when the boy says, “Where the hell have you been? You—oh.”

“Eric. Where’s Connor?”

Eric stiffens, babbles incoherently for a moment before saying, “Mr. Sheppard. Hi. Connor is at the library. You know how he is.”

“I know how he is,” David agrees, “Where is he?”

Eric isn’t ashamed to admit that Connor’s father scares the crap out of him. He finds it hard to believe that someone as stiff and intense as Mr. Sheppard could have a son that was so…random. He was convinced that Connor should come with a translator.

But he can’t lie to Connor’s dad. Maybe Connor will forgive him. “He didn’t come back last night.”

David pushes his way into the room and immediately knows which side belongs to his son. Connor’s always been excessively tidy. 

“Does he do this often?”

“Stay out at night? Yeah. He has problems sleeping at night. He practically bounces off the walls when the sun goes down. He goes running sometimes to tire himself out. I tried calling him but--.” he gestures to the cell phone on the desk.

“He’s usually back by the time I wake up.” David scowls and tries not to worry. 

\--

By noon, David alerts campus security. Connor isn’t back yet and his car is gone. He calls the police that night. They explain that Connor is a college student and it is the weekend, which leaves David less than impressed. 

He calls Layla’s grand-daughter and asks her if she knows where Connor is. Sarah may be all the way at Colgate University but if anyone knows where his son is, it’ll be his partner-in-crime.

She doesn’t.

David knows his son and he had spoken to Connor the night before to confirm that he was coming.

It’s Monday and Connor doesn’t show up for class. The police are finally taking this seriously. They interview students and try to make a timeline of his activities the night he disappeared.

\--

The most horrifying moment of David Sheppard’s life is when the detectives show up at his hotel room and informs him that they’ve found his son’s car…and blood in a warehouse. The car is in Los Angeles of all places and the only saving grace is that there is no body and the blood wasn’t enough to indicate he was dead.

David heads home and waits. He goes over his finances and knows that when the kidnappers call, he’ll give them whatever they want.

Two weeks pass and they all acknowledge that there will be no one calling to demand money.

A month passes and investigators are unable to trace his moments after the warehouse. He leaves campus, drives to a 7-11. Forced to drive to LA (a long drive. Why?) and taken to the warehouse. The car is abandoned and blood, identified as his, left in the warehouse.

David is desperate and there is nothing he won’t do for his son. Nothing. He puts aside his pride and all his resentment and calls his brother. It takes him a while to track down someone who can put him in contact with John and he sends a message.

Not knowing exactly what he expects John to do, he waits for a replay. He finally gets one… a promise to put all his contacts to use.

Connor’s still missing.

\--

Investigators know this:

Connor Angel Sheppard

Age: 19

Occupation: Student (Stanford University)

Boy/Girlfriend: None (Have you ever seen him with a girl? We were at this party once and this hot chick, and I mean hot, comes up to him. She flirts, and man was she’s all over him. And Connor? I thought he was gonna have a stroke. Hid every-time he saw her after that. Boyfriend? No. Connor doesn’t like to be touched. I don’t know if he’s gay or not but he didn’t let anyone close enough for me to figure it out.)

Dean’s List. GPA: 4.0. Member of multiple clubs. Held in high regard by professors. Lots of friends.

Runaway? No reason. (No way. You should have heard the way he’d go on about the courses he was taking and the ones he couldn’t wait to take. He’d be so excited about some musty old books that he couldn’t even read yet. Why would he run away when he was on his way to getting what he wants?)

Kidnapped? Possible. 

\--

David often finds himself in Connor’s room. He sits on the bed clenching a photo in his lap. It’s his favorite photo of Connor taken a few days after his appointment with the doctors of Wolfram and Hart. The photo is black and white. Connor is sitting under a tree hugging his legs, with his head resting on his knees. It’s his favorite because it’s the only one he has where Connor isn’t glaring at the camera or giving that smirk that just says ‘I’m about to do something you’ll hate, won’t you stop me’. He looks sad and exhausted but it calls out to him.

He refuses to accept that this is all he has left of his son. He can’t bear the thought that he’ll never hear Connor’s sarcasm or yell at him for harassing his grandfather…that he’ll never listen to him and Layla taunt each other.

That he’ll never hug his baby boy again.

If Connor were here, he would try to be comforting but would end up saying something completely inappropriate and out of context. But Connor isn’t here. So instead, he watches Layla cry, convinces Sarah to stay in New York and endures his father’s awkward attempt at comfort. He pretends he doesn’t notice how shiny his father’s eyes get sometimes or that he spends hours staring at a photo of him and John.

He wishes he could turn back time and watch those movies. He wants to attend his son’s high school graduation instead of watching the recording Layla made. He wants to tell his father to leave it alone. If Connor wants to learn dead languages, then he will. He wants to be able to yell at Connor and Sarah to stop whatever inane plan they’ve concocted. He wants his son to walk through the door and complain about his privacy. He wants so many things but it doesn’t matter what he wants because he can’t do it all over again and Connor isn’t here for him to say how sorry he is.

He’d once thought that the aching emptiness he had felt after his wife died was the worst thing he’d ever felt. But this?

David takes up one of the pillows and brings it to his nose. It still smells of detergent and the soap the Connor uses. Whenever he closes his eyes he sees Connor as he was that day on the porch.

He sees that heartbreaking smile and wonders if Connor knew something was going to happen. Wonders if staying that day could have somehow changed things.

He closes his eyes and lets the tears fall.


	4. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Lorne and his team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sadly
> 
> Notes: Spoilers for Angel 5.22 "Not Fade Away" and AU tag for Stargate Atlantis 4. . In response to a challenge made by TouchoftheWind  
> Ultimate Family Connor Challenge

The Stargate de-activates behind Lorne and his team and he sends out a silent prayer that this mission goes smoothly. And if he prays a little harder than he usually does well that may have been contributed by the… warning left in the clearing. On each side of the clearing were three dead Wraith hanging from tree limbs in different degrees of mutilation and Lorne has to hope that the people who did this aren’t unfriendly towards unannounced guests. 

If his team has to be rescued again that would put him sixty-one to Sheppard’s sixty. Even though he thinks that the planet with the carnivorous rabbits shouldn’t count.

They would have left when the sun went down.

“Well… this isn’t disturbing,” Parrish mutters and Lorne is kind of proud of his scientist. A few months back the botanist would have ran screaming back through the Stargate.

Lorne takes point with Cadman and Parrish behind him and Stevens taking up the rear. So far so good. No Wraith attacks or homicidal Amish militants jumping out to ambush them. All he has to worry about was making sure his scientist doesn’t wonder off and get kidnapped by a sentient plant. Again. 

He likes to think that he didn’t have to worry about things like that before General O’Neill transferred him out to Pegasus. Unfortunately, he did have some… weird things happen to him in the Milky Way.

Sadly, his capture rate had increased drastically since coming here.

They follow the path and make their way to the village. From the Intel Ronon had giving at the briefing, the people of Olaf were known though the galaxy for their weapons trade. It would be useful to have a few guns more like Ronon’s around.

“Major! This plant reminds me of the Feijoa sellowiana of the Myrtaceae family. Do you know what this means?” Parrish nearly kills himself trying to get to the plant.

Lorne doesn’t. He never does but if he doesn’t get them to the village first, they were going to spend the next two days listening to Parrish gush about his new find. You don’t spend two years working with someone and not know their habits.

“Later Doc, let’s make contact with the locals and then you can commune with nature for as long as you want,” the biologist nods absentmindedly and Cadman ends up dragging him away.

They make good time to the village and the first contact goes well. He didn’t realize how tense he was until he was sure that they wouldn’t be making a mad dash towards the gate.

He can tell just from looking around that these people hadn’t been Culled in a long time. The building structures were permanent and they didn’t have that tell tale anxiousness that most people of Pegasus have.

They were taken into what he assumes is the meeting hall and greeted by the representatives of Olaf. Two men and two women. Two of them are old while the others are around Lorne’s age.

“Greetings friends. I am Elder Channah,” the older woman says, “These are Elder Alvah, Councilor Cronin, and Councilor Jescha. We welcome you to Olaf.”

“We are honored to visit your beautiful planet. I am Major Lorne. This is Lieutenant Cadman,” he motions towards his demolition expert, “Doctor Parrish and Corporal Stevens. We come from the City of the Ancestors in hope of trade.”

“We have heard of your people; The Atlantians. You have had many victories against the Wraith,” Councilor Cronin says.

“And many losses,” Lorne replies smoothly, “but our fight continues.”

Elder Alvah gives him a knowing look. “And not just with the Wraith. If it is weapons against the Wraith you look for, I am afraid that we do not have the resources or the people to equip an army… nor would we want to.”

“I won’t deny that we would like to trade for weapons but we have also come for crops and in hope that you’ll allow Doctor Parrish to take samples of your fruit and vegetable trees,” Lorne explains with ease, the soldier understood where the man was coming from.

Councilor Jescha leans forward, “While we trade with many worlds, it is a custom of ours to get to know those we trade with. Perhaps you would like a tour around our village as we get to know each other. We celebrate the End of Crop Season tonight and we invite you to stay and celebrate with us.”

\--

The celebration is lively and everyone was having a good time. The team tries the food and beverages and Cadman insists that the wine has to be included in the negotiations. Lorne reminds her that he’s an Air Force officer and that he and the Colonel weren’t trained to handle drunken Marines. The stills, which he wasn’t supposed to know about, that the scientist made, were enough.

They were passing a table of rowdy teenagers when he overhears a couple of them discussing whether having destruction on the planet was a good thing.

“What are they talking about?” Lorne inquires.

Councilor Jescha looks slightly aggravated but replies, “Shortly after the last Celebration, a party was sent out to trade goods. When they arrived at the Ring, the Wraith came through. They were attacked and one of our people was killed. Then he came.”

Parrish leans closer, “He?”

“Our people call him the Destroyer. He killed the Wraith and has killed every Wraith that has come through the Ring since,” she elaborates and he wonders if she’s noticed how she lowers her voice as she gives the ‘He’ a name.

“Is he a Runner?” Cadman turns away from two wrestling boys and back to the conversation.

“No. A Hive has never come and the Wraith have never come in big parties.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? If he is protecting your village then what’s the harm,” Stevens pipes up.

“Some of our people do believe that he was sent by the Ancestors to protect us. Others believe the Wraith will eventually realize that those sent to our world have not returned and his actions will bring a Culling down upon us,” Councilor Cronin explains. It’s obvious that this isn’t a topic he was too keen about discussing.

“What do you think?”

Cronin pauses and chooses his words carefully, “I believe that the Destroyer has saved many of our people. I do not know if he was indeed sent by the Ancestors but he has defended us from the time of his arrival. I cannot attest to his reasons but he has yet to express malicious desires towards my people.”

“The bodies we saw when we came through the Gate… this Destroyer did that?” Lorne looks wary. It was one thing to think that the people of Olaf fought off the Wraith but one man… of course after meeting Ronon he should know better than to be surprised. 

“Yes, I can only assume he means it as a message to the Wraith. Perhaps you would like to try this Major Lorne?” Cronin holds up a plate of fruit that looks suspiciously like guavas. It isn’t very subtle subject change but Lorne understands that the subject was now closed and takes a piece of fruit.

\--

They check in with Atlantis the next morning and then Parrish is allowed to take his samples. Lorne thinks that he could really come to like this planet. It wasn’t often that his missions allow him to appreciate the beauty of new planets and he likes to take a few quiet moments when he can.

He leans back against a tree and listens as Parrish babbles on in the background. Cadman and Stevens were in the village making friends and he makes sure to check in with them every two hours. Sometime, team leader was like babysitting. Let them out of your sight for one minute and suddenly you’re being chased through the forest at spear point. 

If you’re lucky.

“Major Lorne,” he turns towards the voice and sees Cronin walking up the path towards him.

“Good morning, Councilor,” Lorne greets and Parrish looks up long enough to wave.

The Councilor looks amused, “I have never seen anyone so focused on vegetation before. Have you thought about our terms?”

Lorne nods. It was very reasonable. In fact, he thought that Atlantis was coming out on the better side of the deal. Enough blasters to have one for all members of off-world teams and crops in exchange for medicines, access to Doctors should the need come, and assistance against the Wraith should they every need it.

“I have but I’ll have talk to my leader before we finalize anything. We’ll be heading though the Gate before nightfall.”

He turns towards the Gate and from where he stands he can see the bodies hanging from the trees.

“Do you think you’re Destroyer would be interested in actively fighting against the Wraith?”

The man stiffens and sends Lorne a hard look. They stare at each other for a long moment before Cronin finds what he’s looking for and his gaze softens.

“It would be a mistake to insinuate that he belongs to anyone,” he looks into the trees with a contemplative frown, “ I believe that the Destroyer needs to fight but whether he will fight with you is not a question I can answer for you. Sometimes it is best to go straight to the source.” 

Lorne follows his gaze and he has to force himself to stay relaxed and not shift his grip on his P90. He doesn’t see anything but now that Cronin’s brought his attention to it, he’s fully aware that they are being watched. 

Cronin turns his attention back to him. “We are in no danger. I am sure that he has watched you and your people since you arrived. He is simply curious.”

Curious or not, Lorne is a bit freaked out that he and Parrish has been there all morning and he had no idea they were being watched.


	5. Interlude: John Sheppard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John receives a cry for help.

The second time he loses Ford and the first time he meets Ronon, is also the third time in nineteen years that his brother contacts him. This time it’s less of a curt notification and more of a desperate plea.

It has been a busy week, as it always is in Pegasus, and this is the first time he’s been able to check his mail. He’d been chasing after Ford when the data-burst came in and he’s already dreading the amount emails in his inbox. There will be complaints from the science department because McKay has most likely already denied their request and insane requests from his Marines that he and Lorne will stare at skeptically.

When he sees his brother’s name he leans back in his chair and gives the laptop screen an incredulous look. John can admit that he’s curious. David wouldn’t contact him unless it was something he feels John needs to know but a part of him doesn’t want to open it because the last time David contacted him it was to tell John that his wife died. When he finally clicks the link David’s face pops up. 

He looks awful. His shirt is wrinkled; his hair a mess and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks as though he hasn’t slept in weeks. A far cry from the immaculate man John remembers.

“Hello, John. I hope this message reaches you in good health,” here David pauses and his eyes shifts away from the screen as though he has to think about what to say next. That, more that David’s appearance, makes John’s heart clench. Even when they were little David had always been the composed one.

“I have a son. His name is Connor,” John remembers. He’d been in Germany when he’d received a letter and a picture of a new born baby boy. He still has the picture in a small shoe box where he keeps the knick-knacks he values but never look at.

“He’s nineteen. Made it into Stanford. Full-ride,” David looks so proud when he says it that John smiles softly.

David suddenly laughs mirthlessly. “You’d have liked him, John,” and John stiffens at the phrasing, “He pissed dad of more than you ever could. They were always at it. He was always causing one problem or another. Did you know that the faculty at his high school held a ‘Good Riddance’ party for him and Layla’s grand-daughter?” he didn’t and he can’t imagine any child of David’s being anything but perfect.

John remembers Layla. She’d always known how to make him feel better after a fight with his father. David runs his hand through his hair and John notices that his hand is shaking.

“Connor’s missing,” and his voice sounds like broken glass.

“He arrived at the dorms and his roommate can account for his whereabouts till Friday morning. After that… The police found his car in Los Angeles in a warehouse district. They,” David chokes. It takes him a while before he can continue,“They found blood.”

John pauses the recording and takes a moment to just breathe. He stares at the frozen image of his brother’s agonized face and John can’t imagine what he’s going through.

He presses play.

“There wasn’t a body. Oh thank God, there wasn’t a body. It’s like he walked into that warehouse and just… disappeared. There’s been no activity on his cards. His friends have no idea where he could be. He’s just—John, he’s just gone."

“I’ve tried everything I could think. Dad and I… we’ve tried everything,” David tilts his head back and when he speaks again he sounds guilty.

“The last time I saw him, he wanted me to stay. Just for that night. He had all these DVDs set up; Rebecca, The Philadelphia Story, Casablanca. He didn’t like them but he wanted to watch them with me. And I just left. Told him I’d see him that weekend and that was the last time I saw him.”

David straightens, as though he’s steeling himself for something. “I need your help. Please John. I know that things haven’t been good between us but I will do whatever you want if you’ll help me find my son,” he looks so defeated when he says this that John just knows that David doesn’t expect anything from him. 

“Please,” then the recording ends.

John finds that he has to watch the video again. He hasn’t had contact with his family in so long but he can’t possibly deny his brother help when he all but begs for it.

It never crosses his mind not to help and despite their lack of a relationship it hurts to know that his brother feels he needs to beg him for help. Hurts to know that David doesn’t expect him to help.

And he will help. He wants to help but he’s in another galaxy and it isn’t like he can just take a plane to DC.

The first thing he does is reply to his brother. Then he writes emails to the few friends he still had in the ‘regular’ Air Force and tells them about his missing nephew. It’ll be a surprise to them… they don’t even know he has a brother.

Next he writes one to General O’Neill. He doesn’t have any clout with the General but he’s hoping that since the man has put so much faith in him-reading him into the program that maybe the man could do something to help. He isn’t expecting much but if he’s unable to help personally, what’s the harm in using his contacts?

The next data-burst wasn’t for a week and hopefully his messages will get there in time to help.

When he’s done everything he can think of, he heads off to find Ronon. Dealing with the Runner is something he can do and it makes some of the helplessness go away. He’s never been good at sitting on his hands and the situation with Ronon is something that takes his mind off his distraught little brother.


	6. Interlude: Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A different take on what lead Connor's father to take him to WR&H.

David finds himself at home for Christmas with a suspiciously cleared schedule. He has a feeling that Layla is behind it but loathed to say anything when he sees Connor’s shocked face.

They have a family dinner, him, his father, Connor, Layla, and Layla’s granddaughter Sarah. Even when his father, somehow able to stand Layla’s disapproval, leaves halfway through dinner David thinks that this is one of the best nights he’s had in a long time.

He just smiles at Connor and Sarah’s antics, even though he firmly believes that they feed off each other’s crazy, and draws a line at a food fight.

He’ll have to thank Layla for whatever she did to his assistant to get his schedule cleared for Connor’s winter break.

\--

That night, Connor dreams of an abandoned room and a beautiful woman. She tells him she trusts him and then kisses him. They kiss and touch and clothes are removed. She whispers promises and it’s all so new to him. He thinks that this moment is worth everything because she’s never lied to him and she loves him.

When he wakes, Connor’s flush, aroused and guilty. So guilty he makes himself sick and spends the rest of the rest of the night curled up on the floor of his bathroom, pale and shaking.

He doesn’t stop feeling guilty until the sun rises.

\--

He has the same dream the next night. Only this time he feels guilty and downright disgusted with himself. He spends a long time sobbing in the shower with hot water pouring over him.

\--

He doesn’t remember what he dreams the third night but he wakes up terrified. When his heart slows and he manages to stop shaking he makes sure that the windows are closed and that his bedroom door is locked. He falls asleep with the lights on.

\--

The fourth night he wakes up, he wakes everyone else too. When he comes to his senses his throat hurts and his father is shaking him. No matter how many times his father asks him what happened or if he wants to talk about it, Connor can’t speak.

He doesn’t remember it but the feeling’s enough.

Layla brings him a cup of tea because tea cures everything. It won’t cure this, so Connor shakes and refuses to go back to sleep.

He waits for the sun to come up.

\--

He doesn’t sleep the fifth and sixth night. On the seventh, his father gives him a sleeping pill. No matter how hard he screams, his father can’t wake him.

\--

David doesn’t try to give Connor sleeping pills again. Watching his child scream and scream and not be able to do anything about it is not something he can go through again. He makes an appointment with the doctor and hears comments like Night Terrors and psychotherapists and is given the card of a prominent doctor. He looks it up first and learns that Night Terrors in adults are caused by thing like fatigue and traumatic events.

He isn’t so sure about the causes but the symptoms are almost the same. He doesn’t want to send his son to a therapist but Connor screams when he sleeps.

He worries about it all night and takes to wondering the house. It’s about four in the morning and when he passes Connor’s room, he sees the blue flicker of light under the door. Knocking softly, he opens the door and sees Sarah sleeping on the bed and Connor sitting next to her watching infomercials, credit card in one hand…phone in the other.

“You would not believe the stuff you can buy on TV.”

“I hope you realize that you’re paying the bill when it comes in.”

Connor tilts his head slightly and keeps his eyes on the television, “You’ll be jealous.”

He closes the door and takes a seat on the bed. From there, the light from the screen makes Connor look sickly, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Should I get ready for you two to announce that you’re dating?”

“Dad,” Connor drawls, as if he’d just said something completely irrational, “It’d be like dating the demonic sister I wished you never brought home. We were having a Die Hard marath—,” Connor glances at her and recoils violently.

David places his hands on shaking shoulders. “What is it? Are you okay? Connor!” 

Connor looks shocked. He glances back at Sarah. “I,” he gives David an incredulous look. “thought…nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. What just happened?”

Connor stays quiet for a minute, continuously shifting his gaze back to the sleeping girl. 

“I swear that just for a moment when I looked at her, her face was covered in maggots. Dad?”

David has no idea what to say to that. “Yes?”

“…I think I’m losing it…”

David thoughts flicker towards the card in his office. First thing in the morning he’s going to call up Wolfram and Harts medical office and speak with that doctor.

\-- 

Connor follows sullenly behind his father as they enter the Los Angeles Branch of Wolfram and Hart. He isn’t sure how he feels about all this. He doesn’t need sleep and he’s totally fine while the sun’s up. During the day all the terror and the guilt goes away and as far as he’s concern? Sleep is for the weak.

His father disagrees.

They meet with a Mr. Wyndam-Pryce who takes them to Mr. Angel. Mr. Angel comes off as weird and awkward and refuses to take his case. Then he saves him and his father from demons. Demons!

Angel was bad-ass.

And a vampire.

His friends were odd but cool. Especially the woman in the leather cat suit…even if she did scare the hell out of him.

He admits that his self preservation instincts are nonexistent because it was still kind of cool even when Angel told him he has to kill a demon.

Even if said demon lied when he said he grants wishes.

It kept on being cool up until he remembers everything.

He kills the demon annoyed that the thing had gotten its hands on his neck. When he can see Angel again he makes his decision and prays that it isn’t a mistake.

“Dude! Did you see that?” he continues to babble on about his awesomeness even as he takes in Wes with new eyes and sees how horrible he looks. It takes a lot not to freak when he realizes that the blue demon is Fred.

He keeps it up until he gets back to Angel’s office.

He sits in front the desk and says, “So, my Dad’s kinda mad at you. I told him you took me demon fighting.”

“Oh,” Angel shifts awkwardly, “I’ll just go talk to him.”

Connor snorts, “Relax. I was joking. I wanted to thank you for everything. No more dreams?”

“No, no more dreams,” they sit quietly for a while and Connor wonders if Angel understood what he was thanking him for.

“What did you tell your dad?”

“That the doctor put me on antidepressants,” he takes the bottle out of his pocket and shakes it, “Placebos. I told him not to worry.”

“He’s a father. Parents always worry.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” he glances around the offices, “They do the craziest things for their kids.”

“Do you want to—“

“I should probably get going,” Connor cuts him off, “my Dad’s waiting in the garage.”

He hesitates at the door.

“Hey, Angel?”

“Yes?”

Connor gives him a suspicious look. “You don’t sparkle in sunlight, do you?”

“…what?”

“It’s just; I don’t think I could respect you if you did. No matter how badass you are.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d go up in flames.” 

Pause.

“You think I’m badass?” Angel asks hopefully.

Connor laughs and thinks that as thick as Angel is, he got the message.

“You girl!”


	7. Making Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another day in Pegasus!

“I take it the mission went well?” Elizabeth calls out as the gate disengages behind them.

“We collected many samples, Doctor Weir,” Parrish replies as he and Lorne ascend the stairs. 

They head off to the infirmary for the post mission check up and the head to the briefing. Lorne explains the tentative deal and what he was able to learn about the about the people. Elizabeth listens to his views on how the village is run and can’t help being a bit unnerved when he casually mentions what was waiting for them at the gate and the people of Olaf’s protector.

They spend the next hour listening to Dr. Parrish’s report and Dr. Brown’s enthusiast conclusions of every point Parrish makes. She doesn’t understand everything they say- and from the politely blank look on Lorne’s face, neither does he- but she gets the basic point. The Botany department will be able to grow the fruits and vegetables on Atlantis.

She finally dismisses them and advises Parrish not to stay up all night in the lab as he’ll be leaving the next day.

Lorne makes no effort to move and she raises an eyebrow. 

“Is there something else?”

“Yes ma’am. About the Destroyer—” she cuts him off. 

“Major, you know nothing about this ‘Destroyer’.”

This is exactly what Elizabeth doesn’t want. There had been reservations when Sheppard had first suggested that Ronon become a part of the Atlantis team but it had turned out fine and Ronon was now a valued member of the expedition.

That said she wasn’t adopting every stray that senior personnel brought back.

“Yes ma’am. I’m just suggesting that we talk to him. He may have information that we don’t. Councillor Cronin did say that he wasn’t from the planet.”

Elizabeth narrows her eyes. She knows exactly what he’s trying to do. She’ll give him permission to make contact and he’ll talk the man right into a place on Atlantis and really, she expects this from the Colonel.

When he sees that she isn’t buying it he elaborates, “I’ve seen the results of his battles with the Wraith and I know we’ve been burned when we trusted the wrong people. I’m not asking that we make up a room for him, ma’am, just that we get as much information out of him as he’ll allow. From what we were told about his fights, he completely overwhelmed them. It’s nothing that Ronon could even do.”

Elizabeth feels a flicker of interest rush though her and makes sure that it doesn’t show.

“We’ve never found anyone in two galaxies that have been able to do what he has, ma’am. The people believe that he was sent by the Ancients to protect them. If that is true, then this will be the first time we’ve met an Ancient that resorts to physical violence.”

She realizes that she had lost before he’d even made the request. Lorne is a sneaky, sneaky bastard and she now knows why they always get all the ammunition they ask for when he sends through the requisitions. 

Lorne knew she wouldn’t have been able to resist if he brought up the Ancients. And why would an Ancient kill Wraith and how is he getting away with it? Perhaps it’s because he isn’t using the abilities gained with ascension?

It was something to think about.

“Very well, Major,” and to his credit, Lorne doesn’t look smug, “you have a go to talk-talk- to him. Sheppard and his team will be going with you and that’s not negotiable.”

“Ma’am, I thought we all agreed that only bad things happen when my team and the Colonel’s go on missions together.” 

Elizabeth smiles, “Superstitious, Major?”

\--

Cadman and Stevens stays behind on Olaf and Cronin takes them on a longer tour of the village. He lets them test a few blasters and eventually leaves them to wonder alone.

“Think we’ll get those blasters?”

Cadman shrugs, “Who knows. They seem to like the Major.”

“Who doesn’t like the Major,” he smiles and kneels next to a group of children that start to crowd around them and searches his flak jacket. 

“As long as we don’t get them angry, we’ll be fine,” she watches as he splits chocolate among the kids and then gets dragged away as they decide he’s their new best friend. Laughing at his helpless look she follows behind them and listens as they point out their favourite places to play and the best trees to climb for fruit.

As the suns go down and mothers call for their children, Cadman taunts Stevens, “You are such a pushover.”

He scowls and takes his P90 from her, “They couldn’t reach them.” when he wasn’t following the kids into every nook and cranny they could find, he’d been scaling trees and throwing down the fruits that they pointed at.

“You can’t have any.”

She just grins and corrals the children back to the village. They stay in the village’s version of an Inn and she can tell from the villagers’ body language that they had gotten major brownie points for playing with the kids.

They are with the kids again the next day when the gate activates. Stevens walks a few feet away, looks over the ridge, swears and goes running back. Cadman already has the kids rounded up when he reaches them and starts pushing them back towards the village.

“Wraith?”

“Wraith,” he confirms. They are running down the winding path towards the village when an ear piercing noise slices through the air. It makes the hair on the back of his neck crawl and reminds him of the time he’d walked into the zoology lab and the scientists were dissecting an iratus bug. When they turn around a bend they have a direct visual on the gate through the trees and get there in time to see a figure in brown cut down a Wraith and the others flee- flee- in panicked directions. 

They run into another group of villagers and leave them to get the children to safety.

“What are you thinking?” Stevens murmurs even as he heads in the direction some of the Wraith had gone.

“Any of those paths eventually twists towards the village. How many?” they slow as they get deeper into the forest and listens.

“Six.”

Cadman nods and points to a disturbed bush. Her heart beats a little faster and she has to wonder if all that talk about the Destroyer is real because she’s never heard of Wraith running away… let alone from one person. She stops and motions towards a decapitated Wraith.

Stevens frowns, “Doesn’t look like he needs our help.”

They are running again and come across another Wraith; this one disembowelled. She crosses another off her list and they look for another four. It’s a bit creepy, how silent the forest is. Every once and a while they will hear a thud or the rustle of undergrowth that makes them hyper-attentive and more jumpy and wary with every rustle. It was worst that the illusions that the Wraith cast. When ever they manage to locate the source of a noise, they are met with a dead body. 

They can hear movement, soft whispers that are barely there but it makes them high-strung and Cadman’s sure that if they were fresh out of the basic training… even after the training you have to complete to join an off-world team, they would be scared enough to just start shooting in every direction. The first living Wraith they come across sees them first. It’s a drone and she finds it odd that it doesn’t have a weapon. They both open fire.

Cadman hears her ear piece click twice and is too busy gunning down the Wraith to pay it much attention.

“Cadman. Stevens, Come in,” their ear pieces crackles to life and the Major’s voice comes through.

“Sir, we’re two clicks southwest of the gate. In pursuit of the-oh, shit…”

Stevens is knocked off his feet when a Wraith runs right in to him, seeming more interested in what is behind him than a free meal. Steven’s already poise and ready to shoot but doesn’t get the chance when an axe flies through the air. It hits the Wraith in the head hard enough that it flips over. 

\--

When Sheppard’s team joins them in front of the gate the next day, Lorne ignores the resigned look on Parrish’s face. McKay scowls at them.

“Great. We’re going to get shot at,” Lorne ignores him too and greets the Colonel.

“Sir.”

“Major, looks like we’re your back-up today,” he turns toward Chuck, “Dial it up.”

“Major Lorne,” Teyla smiles reassuringly at him, “I am sure that the rumour of our combined… misfortunes have been greatly exaggerated. We have been on many successful missions together.”

The event horizon explodes behind them. “Good luck,” Elizabeth calls out.

Lorne returns Teyla’s smile and follows her through the gate. The first thing he notices is that the Colonel and Ronon both have their gun raised and a dead Wraith on the ground.  
He taps his earpiece.

“Cadman. Stevens, Come in,” he waits a moment then tries again.

“Sir, we’re two clicks southwest of the gate. In pursuit of the-oh, shit…”


	8. Meetings and Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cadman has never seen the Wraith run away until now.

Cadman and Stevens stare warily at the dead Wraith. They stand still, listening for movement in the disturbingly quiet forest. Stevens shifts until they were back to back and scans the trees. 

It isn’t particularly dark. The planet’s two suns are high in the sky but Cadman swears to God that the man in front of her melts out of the shadows. She damn near shoots him before she realizes that he is dragging a Wraith by the hair behind him. He’s wearing leather in the same distinctive style as the villagers and she concludes that the Council had downplayed their involvement with the one they called ‘Destroyer’. 

He’s splattered with blood and… other things and Cadman keeps her gun trained on him. His clothes cover his slim form in brown leather which is worn with use in some places but looks strong. The collar of the outfit comes up to mid neck to protect the vulnerable point. The material is molded against the man like a second skin but still seems to allow movement with ease.

“Stevens,” she warns and doesn’t take her eyes off the blood splattered figure. Stevens turns and stands next to her. 

The man… boy looks at them from under long shaggy brown hair, blue eyes flicking from their guns to the patches on their shoulders. He frowns at them, and casually breaks the Wraith’s neck and walks away.

They exchange looks and follow him.

“Hey! Wait!” Cadman calls out to him and he pauses, eyes glaring at the flag on her shoulder before speeding up again. It confuses her but it isn’t really surprising that he would recognize the flag. Although most natives of Pegasus didn’t look at the flag to identify them as Atlantian since so many countries made up the Atlantis Expedition.

They follow him though the underbrush and other than a few annoyed looks he ignores them. 

She looks away when Ronon bursts out of the trees and by the time she looks back, he’s gone. The rest of the team filters out behind him and the Major and Parrish heads towards them.

“You both okay?” the Major asks and she nods slowly glancing back to the last place she’d seen the ‘Destroyer’.

“We’re fine, sir. Had some help.”

“What happened?” the Colonel demands.

“We were on the cliff overlooking the gate with a couple of the village kids when the Wraith came dialed in. Six of them came through. We took the kids close enough to the village and left them with some of the adults. We went headed back towards the gate hoping to head them off.”

“Apparently, we weren’t needed,” Stevens continues for her, “Someone was picking them off one by one. The Wraith were running from him. We were following him but he pulled a Houdini.”

“The same guy that Dr. Weir’s so interested in?” Stevens and Cadman exchange confused looks.

“The Destroyer,” Lorne volunteers.

“That would be him, sir,” she turns to the Major, “I think we should talk to the Councilors again. They left out how close their contact with him is.”

“I still don’t know why I’m here. Captain Kirk over here,” McKay motions at the Colonel, “is the one that Ancients go ga-ga for.”

“Rodney,” Cadman grins and is elated when McKay glares at her. Annoying him is the only good thing that could come from the two teams being of world together and let’s face it McKay’s hysterical when he’s annoyed.

McKay just growls at her.

“What Ancients?” Stevens asks and he’s been on the team long enough not to trust the Major suddenly innocent look.

\---

The first person they meet on their way to the village is Councilor Cronin. He’s standing in the middle of the path, seemingly not afraid that the Wraith are still around.

“Major Lorne. Are you or your team injured?”

“We’re fine, Councilor. Someone took care of the Wraith before we could.”

“I see,” the Councilor mutters, “If you would follow me, I will answer your questions.”

Lorne introduces Sheppard and his team and Cronin leads them back to same room they had met in. He motions them to sit.

“As I have told you before, the one my people call ‘Destroyer of Wraith’, is not an original inhabitant of this world. In the time that he has been here, he has become a part of us. We know that the Wraith come and he fights. We have been blessed that the Hives have not come.”

“Who is he?” Sheppard asks.

“He is anger. He is Wrath. He is many things. He fights the Wraith not because he hates them or even because he wants to protect others. He fights them because they are there. I do not know many things about him. He has never given me his name. I do know that he will not hurt us and that he prefers to be alone. The few times he has ventures into the village, he came to trade.”

“Can you take us to him?” Lorne asks and Cronin frowns. “We only mean to talk to him.

\---

He looks up from the water and stares at the group walking towards him. Cronin leads the ones who arrived before and four others. He tilts his head to the side and studies the weapons and the uniforms and tries not to panic. He’d thought he was hallucinating when he had found the man and woman. 

That’s obviously not the case. He has accepted that he was in a dimension that had a… machine that permitted passage to other dimensions. Or, as Cronin insists, worlds. 

What he can’t accept is that people from Earth are also here. Let alone military because as for as he knows they didn’t make a habit of jumping dimensions.

Then again, he has been gone a long time.

He studies one face after another and pauses on one that seems familiar. The man makes him think of an office and yelling.

Of an older man sitting behind a desk and a photo of two boys. It makes his heart ache a he pushes the memory away because he can’t afford to think of the past any more. There would be nothing left for him even if he decides to abandon his mission and go home.

Cronin, perhaps noticing his unease, smiles reassuringly and asks after his health.

He shrugs. He doesn’t have any problems fighting the demons… the Wraith anymore. They were fun to hunt and he never allows any of them the chance to feed on him.

Feeding on humans make them less susceptible to damage and quicker to heal.

He doesn’t know what feeding on him would do to them. Probably give them such a energy boost they would end up high.

There is a moment of silence where he continues cleaning his weapons and Cronin seems content in making sure he’s been keeping good care of them.

One of the two women walks closer and kneels. “I am Teyla Emmagan,” her tone is soft and her body language is open and welcoming. It’s a testament to how far he’s come, or fallen, that his first thought isn’t how pretty she is but that although she’s out of arm’s reach she’s close enough that he’s fast enough to kill her before the others start shooting.

He doesn’t think anything in his body language has changed but Cronin looks up and gives him a disapproving glare.

Cronin can always make him feel like a misbehaving child which reminds him of another man.

He nods in acknowledgment and the woman, Teyla, points to the man that makes him think of home and says, “This is Colonel John Sheppard.”

She continues on but he doesn’t hear anything but the rushing of blood in his ears. His breath comes in short bursts and he wants to laugh because this was completely ridiculous. 

He doesn’t notice them exchange glances or the worried look that Cronin gives him.

First they have patches of flags that represent Earth countries and now they just happen to have a man with his last name.

Eve’s new plan is probably drive him insane and maybe he’ll be distracted enough that he’d walk right off a cliff.

He’s seized suddenly with the need to get away and he stands quickly, too quickly, startling Teyla and causing the big man with the dreadlocks to raise his weapon but he ignores them and rushes back into the trees.

Eve’s plan works because he’s fifteen feet in before he senses it and the next moment his feet lift off the ground and he’s crashing through branches, knocked right through the tree line, light suddenly brighter and slamming into the middle of the stream before he feels the blow to his chest.


	9. Friendly Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kind of things that happen when Lorne's and Sheppard's teams get together...

He snarls and sits up, ignoring the water splashing around. Pushing away a shocked Cronin, he stalks out of the stream with a splash and towards his weapons. He picks up his knife and axe shoving away the throbbing in his chest.

“What the hell?” the people Cronin brought with him all point their weapons towards the tree line.

He ignores them, spreading his legs and bending his knees. He has spent too long in this dimension and he should have known that they would turn up sooner or later. He has no one but himself to blame for getting comfortable. There’s never been a sign of the Partners presence and he should have left to find a place that does.

His only saving grace is that this isn’t the same assassin he’s been playing cat and mouse with or else he would have been dead with that first blow.

Doesn’t really matter though. This isn’t going to be an easy fight.

He doubts he’ll be able to end it without Cronin or the newcomers getting involved so, he bounces from side to side, he’ll have to make sure they don’t get a chance to make targets of themselves. 

When It walks out of the forest edge, he’s unable to see a difference between It and the hundreds of others have been sent after him. It’s dressed in all black, with Its entire body covered.

He doesn’t even know if It’s male or female. Its breed is lost on him but he finds that decapitation then burning the body makes sure that It stays dead. 

He launches himself at It, jumping in the air and bringing his axe down in an arch. It reaches up and catches the handle. He lets the axe go as his feet hit the ground, drops to the ground and kicks It’s legs out from under It.

He stands and kicks It in the side, lifting it of the ground with the powerful motion. He stalks after it as It stands and swipes at it with his knife. It dodges the first time and grabs his wrist when he comes back for a second. He releases the knife, grabs it with his other hand and buries it in Its side.

It never ceases to disturb him how They never made any noise but the fact that it suddenly tosses him shows that it does feel pain on some level. 

He hits the ground and hears the loud sound of gunfire. He glances back and sees that the newcomers have open fired and groans in exasperation. He grabs the closest thing to him-a rock- and throws it. The rock hits It hard enough that It jerks sideways and he gains Its attention again. He sprints into the forest, hoping that they would get the hint and stay out of the fight, and is suddenly jerked back by his hair. 

His face gets up close and personal with the ground before he elbows it in the side and escapes, leaving some of his hair behind. He spins around and walks right into a punch that lifts him off his feet. A piercing pain shots though his thigh when he lands and he doesn’t have to look to confirm what he already knows.

‘Dreadlocks’ comes out of nowhere, shooting red lights at It. Not only are the attacks useless but now It has a new target. ‘Dreadlocks’ drops the gun and kicks It when It approaches him. They exchange a series of blows and while he can appreciate ‘Dreadlocks’ skills, but he can tell that he won’t last long.

He struggles to his feet and, spitting out blood, grabs the branch sticking out of his thigh and yanks it out. It grabs ‘Dreadlocks’ by the throat picks him up and slams him into the ground. When It lifts him again, shaking the man like a naughty puppy, Connor drives his fist into the middle of It’s back causing it to let ‘Dreadlocks’ go.

‘Dreadlocks’ drops to the ground and doesn’t move but he doesn’t have time to check if he’s still alive because in the next moment It spins and hits him.

He shakes off the blow and returns it with one of his own which lands with a crack. They exchange blows that make his bones creak and he gives a bloody smile. A kick to the stomach causes it to double over and he drives his knee into Its face. It falls back and he straddles It, pounding It’s face again and again with powerful blows.

It manages to hook It’s leg around him and he finds himself with his back to the ground. He blocks the punch and slams his palm into the middle of Its chest, knocking It off of him. He’s on his feet in time to be tackled into tree. He brings his fingers together and brings his fists down into the back of It’s head.

He swings and It’s catches his fist, twisting his arm, and he bends his knees enough to allow him to flip and prevent It from breaking his arm.

Grabbing the arm not holding his, he spins around.

\--

When Rodney squeezes the trigger, he swears that the Destroyer- and they call him arrogant- had not been standing there. He’ll never be as good a shot as the grunts but he, like every other scientist on an off-world team, can hit the broad side of a barn and he should not have hit the psychotic brat. So he is surprise when the kid and that… thing suddenly switch places and the kid stumbles, reaching up to touch his chest. 

It wouldn’t be the first time Rodney’s missed his target but it is the first time he’s hit someone he wasn’t aiming for and it’s now pretty obvious why none of the others had tried for the shot.

They move too fast.

He’s spent years commenting on the stupidity of others and his stupid mistake was going to get a kid killed.

Surprisingly, the kid doesn’t collapse. But the fight does change from two astonishingly strong and fast opponents beating the hell out of each other, to one opponent beating the crap out of the other.

Unfortunately, it isn’t the one they favor that’s doing the beating.

The kid is thrown into trees and slammed into the ground. The thing lifts the kid over its shoulders and then brings him down on its knees. Rodney cringes and imagines that he can hear the sound of bone. The kid rolls to the floor and, after a moment, struggles to get up.

On his knees, the boy sways and his face is a bloody pulp but Rodney can see that he’s still conscious. The man stands behind him; one hand cupping his chin and the other, the top of his skull.

The sharp bark of automatic fire explodes around him and the man’s head snaps back on impact and the kid collapses on the ground with a thud. He turns to his right and sees Sheppard and Stevens standing over a disturbingly still Ronon. 

Someone grabs his collar, dragging him back. He can hear Cadman yelling, “Move it, McKay”, and he scrambles back to his feet, stumbling after her. She shoves him down to the ground, pressing him hard against the roots of a tree. Gripping something in her hand, she peeks out from behind it, eyes shifting frantically from left to right.

Sheppard yells for them to take cover and Cadman yells back, “Fire in the hole,” and curls tightly around him. It’s the last thing he hears before the world shakes and trembles and a blast of heat spreads over them.

When everything settles down, he tries to stand but Cadman pushes him down again. He looks at her and she’s trying to tell him something but he can’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears and the rush of his blood.

Scowling, she signals for him to stay and crouches with her weapon ready. 

\---

Lorne rolls off the kid with a groan. He’d been able to carry the kid far enough that they hadn’t been in the blast radius but not enough to protect them from the debris. Parrish is next to him, shaking and fumbling with his pack. He grabs the medical kit from the doctor and searches for gauze. When he finds it he rips the waterproof covering with his teeth and presses the gauze against the wound on the kid’s chest.

“Major Lorne,” Cronin slides to a stop next to them, “I believe that we should move.”

Lorne glances up then turns and looks behind him. He swears viciously. 

Apparently C-4 didn’t work either.

“Parrish, take the Councilor and get to the gate,” he orders. They need re-enforcements and a medical team. Knowing that Parrish will follow his orders, he doesn’t turn to watch them leave.

Teyla is the next to engage.

A hand squeezes his wrist and he looks down at the boy he’s previously thought unconscious. His hand is pushed away and the kid sits up. Gasping for air he makes it to his feet.

“Stay down. You’re in no condition to stand let alone fight.”

“M’fine,” he mutters and his knees start to buckle. Lorne reaches out to steady him and looks into glassy eyes.

“Burn the body,” he chokes out and before Lorne can ask for clarification, he takes two stumbling steps forward. Getting his balance back rushes forward and jumps on what Lorne is not-so-affectionately calling the ‘Super Solider version 2.0’ and proceeds to performs one of the top three most disgusting things Lorne has had the displeasure of witnessing during his tenure with the SGC.

He rips the Soldier’s head off. It isn’t fast like in the movies; the kid pulls and twists and yanks before the head comes off with a sickening noise and Lorne shudders.

Teyla is unfortunately close enough to be splattered with… various bits and pieces. 

The kid rides the corpse to the ground and doesn’t move. He reaches them and rolls the kid onto his back. He searches for a pulse and finds it, slow and thready. 

Lorne looks up and hesitates. The Solider no longer has a head but he’d been so insistent, “We have to burn the body.”

Teyla blinks, blood dripping from her eyelashes.


	10. Darla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She may be dead but that doesn't stop her from trying to do right by her son.

On some days, those unbelievably hard, bloody days, the inhabitants of Atlantis like to say ‘Just another day in Pegasus.’

Just another day of life sucking monsters, bugs and weird fertility rites. And hey, whales that cause you to hallucinate about dead people? Well, this is Pegasus after all. 

Half the paper work that gets done is edited and unless you’ve been on an off-world team, whether it be in Pegasus or the Milky Way, you wouldn’t be able to read between the lines. Off-world team members are experts at bullshitting their mission reports but honest to God Sheppard doesn’t know where to start with this one. 

They’d all arrived home alive and for that he was grateful but it shows just how bad things went for Ronon to be the one in surgery. Then there was the kid that they brought back with them and McKay… he isn’t sure what he can say to help him.

A lot of weird shit happened on that planet and he barely understands it. Like why Teyla and Lorne suddenly developed a case of pyromania and started burning dead bodies. 

The one thing Sheppard does know is that this shit is getting ridiculous and he is never going on a mission with Lorne’s team again.

End of story.

He’s half way through the mission report when his earpiece goes off. He listens for a moment then swears.

The kid was half dead, how could he be missing?

\--

He rips out everything and sits up. The room is unfamiliar and the air sterile. The light burns his eyes and everything hurts. He has no recollection of how he got there or why he hurts but he knows he has to leave. A high pitch noise wails loudly, piercing the silence and he instinctively swings his arm towards it. Metal folds under his hand and the noise stops.

He slides carefully off the bed and steps on to the cold floor with his bare feet. He takes slow steps towards the door, trying to keep his balance.

When the door opens and two men turn to face him, it’s pure instinct to lash out. He steps over their unconscious forms and makes his way down the hall. 

\--

The light patter of feet can be heard through the halls of Atlantis. The sound is barely audible above the rush of the ocean outside. Shadows are cast against the dull walls and the figure moves swiftly through the halls on near silent feet. The air is chilly that night and Connor is tired. His mind whirls and his feet simply move.

 

The moonlight shines through the window and Connor’s nose can pick up the scent of the ocean. He remembers the ocean…remembers both times he saw it for the first time…

 

He was four when he first saw the ocean. It was a bright sunny day and his Father had whisked him away to the beach for the weekend. It is one of his happiest memories. Connor now knows that his real first look at the ocean was at night, when there was not even a moon, and his blue eyes had looked into its black depths and it looked…

 

“Empty,” Connor whispers. 

 

A light shines from the room nearby and Connor slips from the darkened corridor into the brightened area. He recognizes the occupant who resides there. It’s the deadlocked man from the fight. The man’s dark skin is now paler than it should be and the beep of the machines whirls gently in the room.

 

Connor’s thin fingers move out to the man’s cheek and gently run down the smooth skin and Connor’s brow furrows in confusion.

 

“Should be darker,” Connor murmurs and moves towards the door once more, slipping smoothly into the darkness.

 

"Connor?! Connor, never forget that I'm your father and that I love you.”

 

Connor whirls around, his blue eyes searching the dark hallway for the owner of the voice.

 

“Angel?” Connor timidly calls out and after a moment of silence his eyes screw shut and a look of utter sadness crosses his face and he breathes heavily though his nose.

 

“It’s a lie,” Connor cries softly and the first tear runs down his pale cheek. 

 

A chill runs through his body and with a fluid motion Connor takes off down the hallway, his bare feet barely touching the floor. Stopping at another door Connor presses his ear to the metal and listens in on the voices inside.

 

“Dr Weir, I don’t know how that boy survived making it through the gate but luckily he did. I’ve done a full analysis of his body for distinctive marks and found many scars,” the voice is male and Connor feels his body tense as he realizes that the man is talking about him.

 

“He has many scars, some are simple to figure out what they were, a lot of stab wounds, a few which appear to be claw marks, a few which were probably stitched up by the boy himself from what I can tell. He probably patched himself up a lot,” the man’s voice continues.

 

“Something tells me this isn’t your concern,” another voice, a female voice pitches in.

 

“No, some of the scars are very old. He would have had some of them from the age of 5. Most of his scars I can’t even tell what would have made it. I understand that life is different here in Pegasus but I find it odd that he would have such old wounds. It makes me wonder what kind of world he’s from,” the man’s voice was concerned and soft with a tremor in it.

“We have encountered many civilizations that train their entire lives to battle the Wraith. Even Earth’s history contains many war-like civilizations that trained their children from the moment they took their first step,” the woman’s voice is calm and reassuring.

“I would think we would have heard of a race of people capable of what I’m told the boy is,” the man replies.

“And that’s the question, isn’t it? Feel up to solving a mystery?”

Connor leans back from the door and his fingers brush the bruising he can feel on his face. Even under his fingertips he can feel the past marks…never clean…

Connor gasps and moves forward, the sound rushes through his ears and padding his way down the metals steps he gives a small cry which echoes around him. Connor wraps his arms around his thin body as it shakes.

“You let him take me. You let him get me. You let him get me.” 

He starts to run until he can hear nothing but the sound of the ocean. He squeezes his way through a partially open door and looks around.

The room is a mess. Broken machinery, glass and water lay all over the floor and one of the walls is just a giant hole. Ignoring the glass as it cuts into his feet, he walks towards it and looks down. He’s in a huge tower; high enough that he’s not sure he would survive a fall. He can see the ocean and thousands of lights and he can honestly say that he’s never seen anything like it. 

He sits down, legs dangling outside, and the noise in his head become background static. He already knows what he’ll see when he turns to his right.

She’s sitting next to him in a white dress, watching the ocean as the wind blows her hair around violently.

He knows her. Sometimes, she would come to him and smile. Other times, she would tell him how to kill something.

Most of the time she was sad though.

He knows her from a time when she tried to stop him from doing something bad.

Mostly, he knows her from stories. From a camp fire under a blood soaked sky. She is a monster who destroys families. She is a-

“Whore,” they stare blankly at each other for a moment before she gives him an offended look.

“I wasn’t just a whore. I was the best,” she shakes her head and gives him a rueful smile. Reaching out to touch his cheek she says, “Though, I think I prefer Mom.”

He leans into the touch and wonders if he’s imagining the warmth. He doesn’t mind her presence so much. As long as she’s there, the voices weren’t so loud and the pain so bad.

Time passes as they sit there; the cold, biting wind hitting them and the scent of the ocean in the air. He shivers but doesn’t move because this is the first time in so long that he’s been able to the sit and not think about who he’s going to kill. 

Or who’s going to kill him.

“They’re coming,” she tells him, so he isn’t surprised when the door opens a few minutes later and six men enter the room, all of them armed. 

He turns away from them and stares back at the ocean. It’s nice here and it’s possible that he’s a bit frozen but he doesn’t want to fight.

“Hey, kiddo,” one of the men drawls, “What are you doing out here?”

He presses himself closer into his… mom and squeezes his eyes shut. The man’s voice brings back memories of a forest and a lake and the pain in his chest that he’s been ignoring comes roaring back. 

He ignores them as they start to spread out and the man approaches him carefully.

“It’s cold out here. Don’t you want to come back in?”

He turns and glances at him.

“Connor,” she whispers in his ear and he stills, staring up at the man.

“Connor,” he repeats slowly and her laughter tickles his ear.

The man looks puzzled so he elaborates, “My name is Connor.”

\---

Darla reaches out to the medical computers and starts to manipulate the data. It doesn’t take long for the computer to start spitting out the results she wants and she takes a moment to be suitably smug. She ignores the irritation and anger she feels from the ascended beings that once inhabited this city. She’s seen a lot scarier things than them and she would just love for them to come down and tell her what she can and can’t do. 

\---

Doctor Beckett runs the test three times. When the results stay the same, he runs it a fourth.

“You’re just full of surprises,” he mutters and leans back in his chair.


	11. Medical Anomaly

Carson doesn’t particularly like the conference room. 

It is where the senior staff met once a week to let each other know that their particular divisions were doing their parts in keeping Atlantis and her people afloat. It represented long-winded speeches, difficult decisions, arguing and bad news.

“Adams and Bishop are fine. They both have shiners that I’m sure they’ll make up some grand tale about. I’ve recommended they be placed back on full duty once the swelling goes down and they’ve already been released from the Infirmary,”

When he found the two unconscious Marines outside of room he’d thought the worst.

“Ronon, however, suffered cervical acceleration-deceleration and a linear fracture to his skull,” he pauses at the blank looks and tries again, “he has whip-lash. There also severe bruising to his throat. I imagine that he won’t be a happy camper when he wakes.”

“But he’ll be alright?” Sheppard asks. With all that’s been happening, he hasn’t checked up on his teammate as much as he usual would.

“He’ll recover,” there is a noticeable break in tension in the room that Carson hasn’t previously observed.

Now that Elizabeth knows that her people are okay, she can focus on their more recent problem. She leans her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her interlaced fingers.

“What have you learnt about our guest?”

Carson isn’t really sure how the others will take his findings. He doesn’t really believe it himself. Not only was it highly unlikely, he didn’t set the equipment to do such an in depth analyst. Of course, this was Atlantis and the ole’ gal had a mind of her own.

“The lad is healing well, very well, actually. If my observations are right, Connor is healing at approximately three times that of the average human of Earth,” Carson stated with amazement leaking into his voice.

“It’s been two days since he was shot,” McKay flinches and Carson makes a note to speak to him later. “And I’ve already taken out the sutures. I’m keeping him under for now but I’ll have to wake him soon. I’m already using three times the sedation dose as I would on Ronon and the boy is fighting it.”

Dr. Weir frowns. “Other than the obvious, were there any other abnormalities that you noticed?”

“Aye, his bone density heavier that normal but there is nothing that I found that would logical explain what he is capable of. If I understood Colonel Sheppard’s report correctly, Connor is as fast and as strong as a Wraith,” Sheppard nods his agreement.

“As far as I can see his blood work came back exactly as I would expect from a perfectly healthy human from Earth. There are no additions to his DNA and there is no presence of the ATA gene,” Carson explains.

“I scanned for technology,” Rodney volunteers, “and there was nothing. Whatever it is that he’s using, our computers aren’t picking it up.”

“My people have never encountered a race capable of his abilities,” Teyla says. “I believe that if we can negotiate with his people, we will gain a crucial ally against the Wraith.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say,” Carson interrupts, “humans from different planets all have the same basic blueprints. When I dig deeper, I can tell you the difference between humans from Pegasus and those from the Milky Way.”

“When I said his results came back like those from a human of Earth I was been literal. Most countries require babies to receive vaccines for say mumps and chicken pox. I wouldn’t find those in Teyla’s or Ronon’s blood work.”

“But you found it in his? That’s not possible,” Elizabeth says with a frown, “and even if he was, no one on Earth is capable of his abilities. How would he have gotten to Pegasus in the first place?”

“I ran the results four times. I don’t know how but he is from Earth. I suggest sending a sample of his blood back to the SGA. Perhaps they can find a match and find out how someone could get to Pegasus without using the Stargate or one of our ships.”

“Or who would have sent them,” Lorne adds, “we’ve seen abductions before with Loki. If he is from Earth, someone could have taken him and experimented.”

“Maybe,” McKay says as though it pained him to agree with the Major, “but why Earth and why bring him here?”

“You have permission to send the sample, Doctor, but my main concern isn’t where he came from but how much of a danger he is to Atlantis,” Doctor Weir questions. It’s the chief reason she hadn’t been too keen on letting them bring him here.

“He’s already injured two of our own.”

“That true, ma’am,” Lorne agrees with a pleasant look on his face. Elizabeth resists the urge to roll her eyes, knowing that he was about to dismiss her concerns.

“However, he’d just woken up after a traumatic experience, in a strange place with armed guards. Given what I’ve seen him do, he showed impressive restraint. He also went quietly with the Colonel.”

“That doesn’t mean that next time he’ll….” Sheppard blanks out Rodney’s commentary and focuses on what Beckett had just told them. He hadn’t connected the dots until now because it was impossible. When they’d met Connor on the planet it had cross his mind that he looked eerily like the photo his brother had sent him a year ago but he’d dismissed the thought.

It had popped in his head again when the kid had told them his name but once again the idea was so ludicrous he’d wanted to slap himself for even considering it.

Now though…

“Run his DNA against mine,” Sheppard interrupts Lorne as he smiles at Rodney in a way that Sheppard knows that whatever the Major had been about to say would’ve sent the scientist into a tizzy. 

Everyone turns to stare at him like he’s lost his mind. And maybe he has but he can’t quite get rid of the voice that’s telling him that the answer is right in front of him.

\---

The clinking of Eve’s heels echoes through the chamber with every step she takes. As one of Wolfram & Harts’ children she was given several privileges, one of which is immortality.

It makes the thought of punishment that much more daunting.

She sits in the only chair in the room and faces her parents. The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart currently resemble the likeness of their names. 

She straightens and awaits her punishment.

“So many of our warriors are dead and yet the abomination still lives.”

Eve hides a cringe and silently curses Angel’s kid. Angel had managed to break the Partners hold on that dimension and the Partners had decided to cut their losses and start over again.

Things were fine until Connor freaking Angel decided to wage his one-man war. Yet instead of failing spectacularly, Connor triumphed. He traveled from dimension to dimension destroying the Partner’s follower’s faith in them and effectively pissing them off.

Being selected to kill Connor was the Partner’s way of giving Eve the chance to redeem herself. Unfortunately for her, every warrior sent had been killed. Not that it was really her fault since the Partners were the ones providing the warriors.

Eve holds her peace. The Partners will not appreciate making excuse. She cannot afford to look weak.

“You have one last chance, child. One chance. We have made you mortal once before for your failure with Angelus, but we were merciful and restored you to your rightful place as one of our children. If the abomination is not destroyed, we shall show you that there are things worse than mortality.”

Unable to hide the pain, she doubles over in the chair and falls to the ground. The Partners do not talk in the traditional since. Their words and intents are literally scorched unto your soul and it hurt like a bitch.

Usually the words were a balm to her soul. Of course, Eve doesn’t typically disappoint them for two years straight.

“Take this one with you,” the malice behind the words is apparent but thankfully no longer aimed at her. She opens her eyes squints through the blinding white of the room and finds a figure dressed in black and unmasked, kneeling next to her.

Eve closes her eyes. Of course it would be this one.

When They no longer speak and the pain is no longer crippling, she stands and walks out of the room with her head held high. Naturally, the moment she walks through the door Marcus Hamilton is there, smirking at her.

She glares back. Marcus was created as a solider and is more qualified for the assignment and he isn’t afraid to let her know that at every encounter.

But that doesn’t mean she’s going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know it.

Beside Marcus let himself get killed by a vampire, he is as much an embarrassment as she is.

She turns back to the warrior following her, “Find him and bring me his head,” derisive blue eyes that seem to take up most of the sclera stares her down for several seconds before the figure nods and turns on her heels.

Eve tries valiantly to ignore the feeling of dread that fills her. She doesn’t trust that one.

“Bring me his head,” Marcus mocks, “you left out the part about the silver platter.”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out with a hiss. Siblings are the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in no way a doctor so take my medical reasonings with a grain of salt...
> 
> This wonderful banner was made by Touchofthewind. Thanks!


	12. Confirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too bad the results don't actually tell Carson how this is possible.

Waking up feels like swimming in quicksand with a lead suit on. Everything is sluggish and he has to fight sleep every step of the way.

When his eyes finally cooperate with him, he notices a woman tinkering with something in the far corner of the room and the only thing that keeps him lying on the bed is the fact that he feels like crap. The light hurts his eyes, his stomach may rebel at any moment and the world's largest orchestra is playing in his head – off tune.

All things considered, Connor wishes he had stayed asleep.

The woman finally takes note of him when his stomach won its battle all over the floor and damn if that doesn't make him feel worse. The bile burns his throat and the smell makes him puke again which hurts his throat and the cycle starts all over again.

By the end of it, tears are running down his cheeks, he's struggling to breathe and Connor is convinced he's dying.

More people appear in the room and the woman, nurse his mind supplies; is rubbing his back in soothing circles.

"You're having a reaction to the sedatives," she calmly states, "You're fine, you're okay. Slow breaths now."

She wouldn't be so calm if her insides were trying to leave through her mouth, but she does turn out to be right.

"We can't give you anything for the nausea until all of the sedative is out of your system," she informs him and Connor decides right then that he is going to kill whoever it was that drugged him in the first place.

As soon as he could move.

He curls up in misery despite the nurse's attempts to make him lay straight. He hasn't felt this bad since… well; he's never felt this bad.

"My name is Roosevelt," Connor doesn't care, "Do you think you could sip this for me?" Connor moves enough to squint at the cup in her hand.

"You can wash your mouth out," she cajoles, holding the cup to his mouth. He rinses his mouth out, spitting the water out in the basin she holds out.

She offers another cup and Connor follows her instructions, sipping slowly and succeeds in keeping the lukewarm water down. Roosevelt manages to convince him to straighten out and wipes his face with a wet cloth.

He blinks miserably up at her as a man in a white jacket comes up next to her.

"I'm Doctor Carson Beckett. How are you feeling?"

How do you think I feel? Connor thinks irritably and from the amused look on the Doctor's face, he assumes he must have said it aloud.

"Not too good, I'd imagine," Beckett concludes, glancing to the side where one of the aides is cleaning up the mess on the floor, "But I'd rather you told me."

"Everything hurts," Connor rasps because there was nothing on his body that didn't.

Beckett hums sympathetically at that and proceeds to shine a light in his eyes causing Connor to cringe and turn his head away.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"It's Connor," he grumps.

"Just Conner?" Beckett asks, seemingly making idle conversation as he grips Connor's chin and tries the penlight again.

"Connor Sheppard," he answers absentmindedly. Beckett finally turns the light off and takes a step back.

"Where are you from, Mr. Sheppard?"

Connor shrugs and curls up muttering, "Here and there."

Beckett hums again and leaves Roosevelt to once again convince Connor that that position was not good for his injuries no matter how fast he heals.

Carson's staff was well trained and didn't need him looking over their shoulders. He goes back into his office, where he once again stares incredulously at the results on his screen.

When Colonel Shepard had made his request, they had all thought he was crazy. Even after he had explained about his nephew's disappearance and shown them the photo, they had all just assumed it was wishful thinking.

However, the results of the DNA test had proven that their Military Commander and the boy in his infirmary were closely related and the boy had just confirmed his name.

The only questions left unanswered were how he had gotten here and who experimented on him. The samples taken from Connor were sent through the Gate earlier that day and it was now in the SGC's hands to investigate.

Now how was he going to tell the Colonel?

\--

John pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh, trying to starve off a headache, one year later and David's video still gets to him. He really wanted to be the one to tell his brother that the man's son was still alive but hours after they've sent the blood sample back to Earth and Beckett went to run the DNA test, John is starting to feel a little silly.

Maybe he was wrong, after all the likelihood of his nephew and the guy in the infirmary being on in the same was next to nil.

His communicator chirps, pulling him from his reverie.

"Sheppard," he listens for a moment before thanking the person on the other end. Rubbing his palms over his face, John tries to think. Beckett had been straightforward in his statement but John wants to refute it.

"The results came back, Colonel. You are apart of his immediate family."

So, as much as he wants to tell his brother that his son is alive, the circumstances are deplorable because it means someone took a member of his family, did things to them, hurt them, and left them in another galaxy to be hunted.

It makes something in his chest squeeze tight and John immediately recognizes the first sign of the famous Sheppard fury start to kindle because dammit! This sort of thing didn't happen to people of Earth. Perhaps it was arrogant of him but the thought of aliens actually succeeding in attacking Earth was never a possibility. They will always save Earth. But yet here Connor was. A boy from Earth, taken without any suspicion on the SGC's part.

John doesn't know Connor and his relationship with the rest of his family is questionable but they are still his family. You may not always like them but that doesn't meant you don't love them.

He's done things in the past that he never would have thought himself capable of in the defense of Atlantis and his people. John doesn't want to think about what he'll do if - when – he catches the people that did this but he knows it will get done.

\--

Happy Holidays Everyone!


	13. Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Sheppard does NOT lurk.

It takes three days for Connor to feel human again. 

When he walks to the bathroom, and handled his absolutions without aid, the Doctor smiles calls him ‘lad’ and is being entirely too friendly for it to be strictly professional. Then again, he’s never been to a doctor before so for all he knows, this is normal.

He wonders if the man would be so generous with his smiles and consoling pats on the shoulder if he knew Connor has been thinking of the many ways to kill the man and his staff. So far he has come up with over 20 for the Doctor alone.

Poking idly at the broth they’d given him to eat, he hides a mocking smile.

Because while it had taken him three days to fully recover, Connor has been fully functional nearly four hours after he’d woken up and tried to puke out his intestines. The wounds on his leg and chest had healed and breathing no longer hurts. He stayed where he was however; the fact that the people helping him are human was the only thing keeping him from wreaking havoc.

That, and the figment of his dead mother who was currently reading his chart over the inquisitive doctor’s shoulder. 

Honestly, you’d think he would hallucinate someone he actually knew.

“You should eat Mr. Sheppard,” Beckett mummers, trying to coax him into at least finishing half the bowl this time.

Connor lifts the spoonful to his mouth and swallows without tasting anything. He knows he should eat it but it would help if the people here didn’t put him on edge. They were clearly human and from Earth but Connor doesn’t understand what Earth’s assorted military are doing in another dimension. He knows it has been years, so many he’s lost count, but he doesn’t think they’d find out or branch off into the supernatural.

Either things have changed drastically in the time he’s been gone or this is all a part of Eve’s plan.

Connor isn’t sure which but he does know that Beckett and his people keep looking at him with these strange knowing looks and that Colonel Sheppard is constantly lurking outside the door of his secluded hospital room (and yes, Connor did notice that he is away from the other patients, and has armed guards at the door that has nothing to do with his safety no matter what Beckett says) and it is driving him insane.

He knows that they are hiding something from him and all the side-glances and sympathetic looks have him in a constant state of hyper vigilance. Eve definitely needs to train her people better.

An inelegant snort snaps him out of his thoughts and he looks up at Darla who gives him an exasperated look.

“For the last time, these people do not work for Eve and if you’d actually pay attention to Colonel Sheppard you would know exactly who he is.”

Connor scowls. It had taken a while but he knew who this man reminded him of… but that was impossible. If he was who Eve was obviously trying to trick in to believing it was, the man would be dead or well into his years by now.

Connor wasn’t stupid. He knew it was a trick but they were human so Connor will just have to play along until its time to leave.

“So stubborn,” his mother mutters and shakes her head, “but that’s alright. Everything will work out in the end.”

Of course it will; Connor thinks as his eyes flicker back to the door and the man hidden behind it, because I’m going to finish what I started.

\---

“Honestly, Colonel,” Beckett says as door to closes behind him, “how long do you plan to lurk in the hallway?” He grins at the look he receives and walks towards the main part of the Infirmary.

“How is he?” 

Beckett shots a sideways look at the slouched figure next to him. “Physically he’s fine. All of his injuries have healed nicely. It’s fascinating really, how quickly he heals. I find myself running out of reasons to keep him in the Infirmary.” 

Sheppard nods, “I’ve already had a room prepared for him.”

“Mentally, however,” he continues as he pauses in front of his office, “Connor shows signs of anxiety and hyper vigilance. At least that’s the impression he gave…he’s quite good at hiding it. I sent a request to Dr. Heightmeyer and she’s agreed to observe him before she speaks to him. She should be in the observation room now.”

“You’re thinking PTSD.” 

Beckett gives him an apologetic look and tabs his earpiece, “Beckett…No, we’re in my office… you’re welcome.” 

“Sorry about that. As I was saying, yes, he reminds me of Ronon when he first arrived except Connor doesn’t make me fear for my safety. Have you spoken to him yet?”

Sheppard makes a face, “Not sure what to say to him.”

“Well, lurking in the hallway isn’t exactly helping.”

“I don’t lurk,” Beckett rolls his eyes at the petulant tone.

“Yes, well the lurking that you’re not doing isn’t going to get any answers out of him.”

\---

The one thing she hated about Atlantis, Dr. Kate Heightmeyer thinks as she taps her stylus idly against the tablet and stands with a frown was the lack of pen and paper. Call her old school but she really missed taking notes on paper.

Hyper-vigilance, paranoia. She jots down as she watches Sheppard’s newest stray glance towards the door the Colonel was standing behind.

After roughly ten minutes of observation, she’d already deduced that the Colonel was the source of the younger Sheppard’s unease. Although, she is quite curious to find out how he knew the Colonel was there. She doesn’t think that Connor could get any tenser but when Carson pats his shoulder, the young man’s already stiff shoulder goes taunt like a rubber band ready to snap and his left hand makes an aborted movement towards the Doctor and he lowers his head, letting long floppy brown hair hide his eyes.

Aversion to physical contact, Kate continues, likely to react with violence if physical contact is not expected. Patient seems capable of controlling his reaction. While Beckett goes over his chart with him, Connor attention shifts to a point above Beckett’s rights shoulder and his expression goes blank, before scowling and suddenly looking away. It’s not the first time she’s noticed him completely zone out and he seems equally muddled and aggravated after each instance. Patient seems to suffer from bouts of confusion possibly related to his sudden relocation to a new environment.

He does, in a way, remind Kate of Ronon; a whole lot of anger and a complete lack of trust. The difference being that Ronon wasn’t afraid of letting the world know what he thought of it. On the other hand, she has the feeling the Connor was just playing a role; the surly patient to Carson’s overbearing Doctor.

Carson walks out of the room and soon after Connor stops acting like a cornered animal. There was a nurse left in the room so it can’t be because he was alone. Perhaps he was uncomfortable with Carson in the room. If Carson’s assumption that Connor was experimented on were true, it would explain anxiousness around a doctor.

Kate narrows her eyes and decides that, no, that defiantly wasn’t it. Testing a theory she taps her earpiece.

“It’s Kate. Is the Colonel still in the hall? Thank you, that’s all I needed to know.”

“Well, that’s unexpected,” Kate mummers. It wasn’t the doctor causing him to act like a cornered cat, it was the Colonel.

But how on Earth did he know Sheppard left?


	14. Interlude: Saying Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor says goodbye to his family....

A/N: This is TouchoftheWind here- this is my first addition to this story besides babbling at Kattz.

 

[ ](http://s225.photobucket.com/user/TouchoftheWind/media/wakeofdestruction7.jpg.html)

  
Interlude: Saying Goodbye

The sun was shining and the air pleasantly warm with a cool breeze which ruffled Connor’s hair as he climbed from the car- a bag of flowers in his hand. He looked around and saw no other person in the cemetery. He headed off to the left and towards an area which he had visited a few times. A row of headstones was his destination. He came to the first one- which was white and simply had on it the following inscription:

Winifred Burkle

Beloved Daughter and Friend  
Always in our Hearts

“Hello, Fred, it’s being a while,” Connor said and crouched in front of the grave. He removed the old flowers and pulled a new arrangement from his bag.

“I brought you some more flowers. Its purple Iris- it apparently symbolises wisdom,” Connor said and placed the flowers down. He grabbed a cloth from his pocket and wiped down the stone and smiled grimly.

“I know you didn’t like me very much but I think Dad would want me to visit. I still remember how well you would make me those sandwiches. I didn’t realise how good I had it. I also miss your researching skills- hunting isn’t as easy though I do find me normal method of hitting the demon until it goes down works most of the time. You would be proud of how much I do get done on my own- I know its due to the spell- but I still remember you sitting with me and teaching me to read and write properly as Father…errr….Holtz only taught me to recite passages from the bible. I never said thank you for that did I?”

Connor sat for a moment and stared at the name. It was a shame that her parents never knew the real reason their daughter passed away, however, lucky they never got to meet Illyria properly. He sometimes wondered where she was…he had heard rumours of her surviving the battle of LA but could never pin her down. It figures that an Old One would live on whilst the rest did not.

Connor stood up and moved down the row to the next headstone which was grey and read:

_Charles Gunn_

_Beloved Friend_  
_Always in our Thoughts_

“Hey Gunn,” Connor crouched again, “brought you some flowers this time- thought you might feel left out.”

He placed the flowers on the grave and cleaned the stone before sitting back on his heals. He sits for a moment and looks down at the flowers, “They are carnations- it means pride. Which I think you should be able to feel after everything you accomplished. The shelter is doing good- told them to call me if they have any vampire problems. They haven’t called yet.”

Connor stood up and moved down to the next headstone, this one was also grey and read:

_In Memory of_  
_Wesley Wyndam-Pryce_

_Dear Friend and Protector_

“Wes,” Connor placed down some flowers with a nod and wiped the cloth over the cold stone, “you probably know what these flowers mean. Since you know everything already- but humour me. They mean admiration- it’s an odd flower but I thought it fit- Heather is apparently common on the moors in England. I wonder if we would have eventually ended up there if your plan to take had worked. While I know it wasn’t true what you found out I kind of wish you had taken me. I wouldn’t have ended up in Quor-Toth and then Angel probably wouldn’t have worked for Wolfram and Hart as I wouldn’t have threatened to blow myself up. It would have being nice growing up with you I think. Probably would have come by these smarts that the deal gave me on my own with you around.”

Moving down to the next headstone, which was white and had gold script, Connor placed another bunch of flowers down and gave the grave’s lettering trace with his fingers.

“Hey, Cordy,” Connor whispered.

The inscription had long since being burned into his memory.

_In Loving Memory of Cordelia Chase_  
_Friend, Mother, and Protector_

“I know its being a while but it’s surprisingly busy at college- who knew learning dead languages would be so lively,” Connor gave a smile and sat down properly.

“I brought more flowers, these are Amaryllis- they mean splendid beauty,” Connor stated, “I miss you- I know it’s weird to miss you. The you I knew weren’t really you but someone possessing you. But at times I get flashes from when I was a baby I think- of you and Angel looking after me. I’m not sure whether it’s my imagination which has created this or if it’s real. But I miss you.”

Connor sat for another five minutes or so just chatting about trivial things like his latest prank with Sarah or his Dad cancelling on him yet again before moving onto the next grave.

This one was slightly bigger than the rest and had two inscriptions on it:

_Liam Angel Aurelius and Darla Aurelius_  
_Loving Parents_

_William ‘Spike’ Aurelius_  
_Dear Friend_

Strength is born in the deep silence of long-suffering hearts, not amid joy.  
-Hemans

“Hey, Dad, Mom, Spike,” Connor smiled and placed the largest bunch of flowers down. It was a colourful arrangement with many flowers in- most of them night blooming ones.

“I’m going to go after Wolfram and Hart…I know you wouldn’t want this but I can’t have other people go through what I have. I can’t let them get away with hurting people and leaving loved ones behind the grieve and never get closure for themselves. How many people have fallen victim to Wolfram and Hart and their families don’t even know? They just have to report them missing and never find out why.” Connor started and could almost hear his family protesting but in the fading light of the day as the instinct to hunt started to stir he told his lost family of his plan.

“I know it’s odd since that’s what I’m basically what I am doing to the Sheppard family. But I need to do this. Besides we all know that I’m not meant for the happy ending. Ever since the spell broke, even before sometimes, I would feel reality slipping and the pain come back. I’m damaged and in the long run I would only get them hurt or killed,” as tears began to fall and his throat hurt from sobs which came from him he felt himself break a little inside.

“I hope to succeed before I get killed or something. My existence so far has not amounted to much except to bring about bad things- even my daughter was evil. I can’t do much good in this world. Maybe that’s what it takes to fight Wolfram and Hart…someone who knows Hell and can be utterly ruthless,” Connor wept.

“I don’t think I’ll be back before I go but I hope that someone from the Council maybe finds these graves and looks after them. Faith or Willow maybe. I’ve left some messages at the Council letting them know this location- so maybe.”

Connor stood and looked down the row of graves with a heavy heart.

“And then there was one,” he whispered as tears began to silently from blue eyes and his soul too heavy with loss to shine anymore and as the last rays of the run fell over the horizon Connor left to spend one last week on Earth.

00000


	15. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indoor plumbing... how I have missed thee...

The best part about this place, Connor muses as the water pounds down over him and his skin absorbs the heat, is the water pressure.

The last time he had a real shower with soap he hadn’t made himself was the world with the creepy ass tongue-tentacle vampire things (1). He’d left that world pretty fast after realizing Eve and the Senior Partners had absolutely nothing to do with the budding apocalypse. That and the fact that he’d watched one of the newly turned thing’s genitalia fall off.

Needless to say, it had been a traumatizing event. 

Connor stays in the shower until his skin wrinkles and he can barely see through the steam.

\---

His escorts lead him into the mess hall after convincing Connor that 1) no, he does not need to take a shower every hour and 2) they were hungry which meant he was hungry too. Connor is reluctant and irritated and reminds himself that humans are off limits (the only line he’s yet to cross) and goes with them.

Rocking on his heels, he decides that the shower was okay but the best part of being here was the food.

Lots and lots of food.

Glancing at the surlier of his guards, he silently waits for permission to join the line, swearing that if this was some kind of game, heads were going to roll. The man inclines his head and Connor shoots towards the line. He moves faster than he means to and faster than they expected and doesn’t realize it until the room gets quiet and the people in front of him start dropping out of the line. 

It puts him on edge and he suddenly misses his shower. He frowns down at the tray he picked up, debating the pros and cons of staying. Just as Connor decides that he’d rather go back to the room a hand slides across his vision and takes the tray.

“Doctor Beckett says you have to eat the food, not just stare at it,” the new arrival chides.

He blinks up at Major Lorne then scowls at the mention of the Doctor.

The Major ignores him, “Come, I’ll show you what to stay away from.”

By the time they make it to an empty table, his tray is filled to the brim and the Major’s commentary has him at ease to the point that all the stares and whispers are all just background noise.

He tucks into the food (with a fork at the Major’s insistence) and its bliss.

What’s better than food that someone else killed and cooked?

\----

 

The moment he’s back into his room, he strips and it’s back into the shower.

“I take it back. You’re definitely the best part,” he mummers. 

\----

The next day, Connor finds himself sitting in a sinfully comfortable chair in Dr. Weir’s office. The woman in question sits across from him with a pleasant smile that does nothing to hide the coolness of her gaze.

He gets the feeling that she doesn’t like him much.

“Mr. Sheppard, how are you finding your stay in our city?”

“It’s… shiny,” he mummers watching the light reflect of the glass trinket on her desk, “and its just Connor.”

He shifts under her gaze; not intimidated but still highly uncomfortable with talking to people who weren’t actively trying to kill him. That and the way these people insist on calling him Mr. Sheppard and the knowing looks were …grating.

“Goddess below, you really are your father’s child,” Darla shakes her head in exasperation. 

Connor ignores her.

“Connor, then. You may call me Elizabeth.”

Silence stretches between them as they observe each other.

“Thank you for having me,” Connor finally offers, making an attempt at using his manners. He wasn’t completely uncivilized after all and he thinks he catches a flash of amusement in her eyes.

“Doctor Beckett has informed me that all your wounds have healed.”

“Yup,” he sounds out, popping the ‘p’, “good as new.”

“He also discovered something quite interesting when he ran your blood work.”

“And what would that be?”

“Doctor Beckett discovered that you are not from Olaf.”

Connor raises and eyebrow, “No, I’m not”

“In fact,” Elizabeth continues evenly, “you are not from the Pegasus Galaxy.

Connor’s nose scrunches up in confusion.

“Pegasus--- is there a question in there somewhere?”

“When this expedition arrived, it was in essence a one way trip. Deep down no one expected to ever make it back home. In the three years we have been here, we have had to fight tooth and nail to survive. We have lost good people and betrayal seems to be an everyday occurrence,” Elizabeth said whilst she rests her elbows on the table and looks at him with an earnest expression, “that being said, we have made plenty of friends. It hasn’t been easy but we protect our allies. I protect my family.”

“And that’s what this?” Connor waves his hand around vaguely, “A family?”

“It is,” she isn’t out right hostile but he was sure that saying the woman was suspicious was putting it lightly.

It also bothers him that Darla is astonishingly quiet.

Elizabeth lets the silence drag on until she’s sure their new acquisition understands her meaning.

“Where were you before you arrived on Olaf?” Elizabeth meets his gaze and refuses to let go. It’s a question that should have been asked days ago but John has never been good at dealing with emotional situations.

Especially if he was in anyway involved. Left to his own devices, it’ll be years before she got any answers.

“Lots of places. I don’t remember all the names,” It’s not a particular intrusive question. Connor knows he is an unknown element. It is only practical that they would be curious. It should be simple to just lie or give a twisted version of the truth but for some reason he finds himself oddly defensive.

Obviously, I’m going to have to be straight forward with this one. Elizabeth thinks to herself. “In Dr. Beckett’s findings, he found certain markers in your blood that… surprised us. Markers found only on Earth.”

Connor relaxes back into the chair with a shrug. It’s not the first time he’s been to an Earth.

From her perch on Elizabeth’s desk, Darla rolls her eye, “The extent of your self denial is awe-inspiring. Truly.”

Connor frowns at her, incredulous, noting Elizabeth frowns slightly at his inattention.

“When he brought that to our attention, along with the name you provided Colonel Sheppard, it brought up some questions. Interesting questions with impossible answers but we have learned nothings impossible in Pegasus.”

“What are you getting at,” Connor asks wry as a notion tickles the back of his mind and he ruthlessly squelches it.

“Colonel Sheppard received a message a little more than a year ago from his brother,” Elizabeth leans forward intently, waiting for any hint of reaction, “David Sheppard.”

She doesn’t anticipate how ashen his face turns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Anyone want to take a guess about where the vampires that completely freaked Connor out are from?


	16. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is not pleased...

He is restarting his playlist when Lorne walks into his office and immediately helps himself to half of John’s paperwork.

“Have I told you lately how much I appreciate you, Major?” John asks shaking out his cramping hand.

Lorne grins at him, eyes filled with mirth, “No not lately, sir.”

“Well, I do,” picking one of the forms, he waved it at him, “Have you heard about this crap? Captain Ackerman is citing discrimination because the baseball clubs equipment came on the last supply run but not the cricket teams. He thinks I purposely lost his requisition form.”

“Well, you did have an hour long argument about which sport was superior,” Lorne points out.

“Discussion,” John corrects, “we had an intellectual discussion in which we both had different opinions.”

“Which,” Lorne counters dryly, “resulted in both the cricket and baseball clubs in the brig. It was almost as bad as the Football/Soccer Incident.”

John gives an exaggerated shudder, “Don’t remind me.”

They pour through dozens of forms and even with the Major’s help, it takes another two hours. He signs the last one and stretched, cringing as his back cracked.

He is starting to feel old.

Lorne hums along quietly to the music and relaxes in his chair. John leans back in his chair, puts feet up on the desk and closes his eyes as he waited for Lorne to speak his mind.

He’d speak when he was ready.

As the only two Air Force officers in a sea of Marines and civilians they had to stick together. As the military XO Lorne tended to be the one everyone went to because as much as his people respected him, John was still their CO. They trusted him with their lives but there were always things that you would never go to your CO for.

Lorne was the in between; dealing with any problem before it reaches John’s ears, in which case mediation went out the window and John would have to official discipline the offenders.

John was well aware that as friendly as he was with every one, he was only close to his team. Command was a lonely position and he was lucky to have the few confidants he did have.

And having Lorne as his XO was a godsend. No one could ever replace Ford and John’s man enough to admit he resented Landry for sending Lorne, but as reliable as Aiden was, he didn’t have the experience that Lorne has.

Their start had been rocky and he really hadn’t been fair to the man but once he’d been able to stop him self from looking for Ford in every meeting, things had gotten easier.

He relies on Lorne to see the things he can’t and to always speak his mind.

Whether or not he wants to hear it.

“Jameson tells me they’ve been having a hard time getting Connor out the shower.”

“What?” John opens his eyes and gives him an incredulous look.

Lorne shrugs, “Apparently he really likes to take showers.”

“I…see.”

“I spoke to him yesterday and this morning. He’s eating well so I don’t think the docs’ going to have to worry about his weight anymore. He doesn’t seem inclined to making any friends however.”

“From what I hear, he likes you,” John takes the rubber ball from his desk and throws it at the wall, catching it on the rebound.

“I’m a likeable guy,” Lorne smirks.

John throws the ball at his head, frowning when the other man catches it.

“Have you spoken to him yet?” Lorne tosses the ball back.

“No, not yet,” and wait for it….

“Do you plan to?” 

The thing about Lorne was that he had a way of talking to you that made you think he wasn’t judging you when he totally was. 

They continued to toss the ball back and forth.

“I don’t know what to say to him,” he finally admits after a moment of silence.

Lorne frowns, “I get the feeling from him that he doesn’t remember you. He seems to recognize our flags. I’ve seen him studying our patches but he doesn’t seem interested in asking any questions.”

“Well… we’ve never actually met,” Ignoring his second-in-command’s dubious look he continues, “I’d like to wait until Heightmeyer speaks to him and the SGC should be getting back to me soon. They are going to test the results from Connor’s missing case with the sample we sent them.”

“What are the chances that he’s not your nephew and this is all one hell of a coincidence?” Lorne asks, even though he doubts it. If the Atlantis’ computers say Connor and the Colonel are related, then they are.

John doesn’t even bother to answer him.

“I’m concern about his state of mind. I mean you don’t just wake up one day and do the things he can do. If he’s not using technology, then someone had to have done it to him. Did whatever it was they did and then left him in another galaxy where he ends up fighting things that, from what I saw, are a hell of a lot stronger that the Wraith.”

Lorne nods, “Maybe Heightmeyer will be able to get him to open up about what happened to him.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Well, I hope part of your plan involves not stalking him,” Lorne dryly remarks. 

John glares at him. Why does everyone think he’s stalking the kid?

Before he can retort his comm goes off.

“Sheppard….what? I’ll be right there,” John stands abruptly, grabbing his laptop.

Lorne straightens at his furious look, “What happened.”

“Looks like I won’t be waiting on Kate anymore.” 

 

\---

Elizabeth steadily avoids Sheppard’s icy look as he storms into her office, laptop in hand.

After Connor had gotten over his initial surprise, he’d let her know just how impossible that was and how unlikely he was to fall for her lies.

Connor had been protesting loud enough that she had to send his escorts away when they came rushing in guns ready. Sending for John had been her best option. 

It was either that or shoot him with the zat’nik’tel she keeps in her desk. 

Connor paces her office like an angry tiger. Nothing like the awkward, petulant young man he was a mere ten minutes before, so despite how angry she knows John is with her in this moment, she is glad he’s there.

The Colonel shifts his gaze from her to the reason he was there and Elizabeth is relieved to see his angry demeanor shift into something looser, which always means that he was aware of nearby danger. 

Because it meant she was justified in breaking out in a cold sweat once she realized she had stupidly sent the marines away and she was left alone in a small room with someone that she had virtually zero chances of actually aiming at and hitting.

So yes, she is happy that John was there.

Once Connor realizes John was in the room and blocking the door he settles against the side of her office that wasn’t glass and watches them both.

John tosses her another look that she takes to mean ‘stay out of this’.

“Connor, I hear that there are some questions you need clearing up,” John slouches and makes his way out of the path of the exit and closer to her desk.

Something flashes behind the younger Sheppard’s eyes and he crouches, shaking his head in denial, “I don’t have any questions. That’s me, question-less.”

“I think we both know that’s not true,” John mutters and slowly makes his way closer to the other man.

Connor stills completely and doesn’t reply.

Elizabeth’s hand tightens around the zat’ so hard that she imagines the etchings are imprinted into her palm.

“What has Doctor Weir told you?” John asks, crouching in front him setting up the laptop and Elizabeth cannot remember a time she’s heard John sound so gentle.

“She said that---that you got a message from your brother?” What should have been a statement ends in a question.

“She told you the truth. My brother, David, informed me that his son had gone missing. His son named Connor.”

Connor squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his temples, grimacing in pain.

“I don’t---I don’t believe you.” Connor mutters but Elizabeth gets the feeling that it’s least that he doesn’t believe and more that he does want to.

“I can prove it to you. I’ll play the video for you, if that’s all right.”

Connor opens his eyes and stares at him for a long moment before giving a hesitant nod.

John studies him with tired eyes then pressed play.

“Hello, John. I hope this message reaches you in good health,”

Elizabeth silently watches the emotions play across his face as he watches the video. There is surprise and grief but what surprises her is the guilt as he reaches out to touch the screen.

“Dad?”

Tears silently fall down Connor’s face and John looks as though he’d rather be anywhere than in this room right now.

By the end out the video, Connor looks washed out.

“Connor…” John starts as Connor seemed determined to scrub any signs of tears away but Connor just shakes his head and stands.

“I think---I think I’ll just go back to my room,” he croaks and walks out. John reluctantly lets him go with a nod at the guards and once the door closes, John throws her a nasty look.

“Dammit, Elizabeth. I said I’d handle it.”

She straightens and glares right back, “I have a duty to protect Atlantis. That means that sometimes I have to ask the hard questions. Don’t you think it’s odd that your nephew ended up in this galaxy and somehow, out of the hundreds of planets out there, we managed to find him? Would you rather wait until it’s too late to find out this was some kind of ploy?”

“I’d rather,” John snarls, “have waited until Heightmeyer spoke to him.”

\---

 

Connor is distantly aware that he’s in shock. There are no windows in his room and Atlantis has climate control but instead of feeling comfortably warm, Connor feels like he is shaking apart. His thoughts flickers wildly back forth from the years and years he’s spent fighting and running and killing, (and he knows its been years, dammit, and he’s made peace with the fact that he will never ever grow a beard) and what Colonel Sheppard just told him. 

A year? That’s it?

It makes no sense. Growing up in Quor’toth, he knows how drastic the time difference between Earth and hell dimensions can be, but there was no way with all the places he has been and the time he spent on each one, that it’s only been a year. For the Power’s sake, he’s been on Olaf for months. Everything he’s done and he ended up right were he begun. 

He was home. Or as close to it as he’s been in a really long time.

Going after the Partners… It wasn’t something he could do while thinking about all he’d left behind.

No distractions.

He’d only wanted to put it at the back of his mind but he’d honest to God forgotten. How could he forget?

Holtz and Angel weren’t the only fathers he had.

It suddenly makes sense why Colonel Sheppard has been obsessively following him. Maybe he should call him Uncle John. Connor shakes his head and covers his mouth before his hysterical giggles could escape. He’s ended up in another galaxy and was found by the uncle he didn’t know, who technically wasn’t his uncle at all.

He hadn’t even questioned why he’d introduced himself as Connor Sheppard.

His head hurts. Everything he’d suppressed was suddenly there again and he has no idea what to do about it.

He paces the length of his room as the image of his mother watches him with a smug look and tries to ground himself. 

He hadn’t believed her when she told him. After all she was just a figment of his imagination…something to stop him from completely losing himself. He hadn’t believed Weir either, not at first. Not until the Colonel had shown him the video of his dad and god that video. 

Chewing his bottom lip, he shoved his hands in his pocket, cringes and pulled out his left hand. He stares at the scalpel in his hand uncomprehending for a moment before remembering stealing from the Infirmary before he’d been released. 

The world snaps back into focus and Connor knew what he has to do…what he should have done when first woke in Atlantis.

He presses the blade to his right arm and Darla gasps, “Don’t.”

Connor ignores her and cuts deep, dragging the blade from elbow to wrist and ignoring the sharp pain that came after. He waited expectedly with his bleeding arm extended and fingers curled to claw at the air and rip open a portal. When nothing happens, Connor snarls, angry and maybe just a tad desperate and drags the scalpel down his arm again and again and claws at the air.

Connor can feel the magic starting to build and red sparks flashes to life in front of him and it has never been this hard to open a portal when Darla suddenly snaps “no” and an ear piercing alarm starts to shrill.

He flinches back and the door to his room slides open and Connor is suddenly face to face with his startled looking guards.

They stare at each other in shock before one of them inches into the room with a hand-raised placate while the other keys his comm.

“I’m sorry, but this has to end,” Darla mummers to him while the first guard asks him to put down the knife and assures him they’ll get help.

He can only imagine what they’re thinking as the look at him right now—standing there with a scalpel in one hand and an arm covered in blood.

Darla stands to the side looking exhausted and for the first time Connor comes to the notion that maybe she is actually there because why else would his door open and alarms start blaring at the exact moment he tried to leave.

“It’s time to stop running kid.” 

She’d stop him from leaving.


	17. Interlude: TLC and Superpowers

[ ](http://s225.photobucket.com/user/TouchoftheWind/media/wakeofdestruction7.jpg.html)

**  
Interlude: TLC and Superpowers  
**

Connor breathed heavily as he climbed through his dorm room window- trying to be quiet as possible and touch as little as possible otherwise the blood which coated his hand would get on everything. He didn’t fancy trying to get blood out of something. Connor moved into his bathroom whilst putting his clothes into a black bin bag and hiding it in the cupboard under the sink. 

In the dull light of the room Connor looked into the mirror and winced at the three claw marks on his chest and the blood which was now congealing there. He looked pale and sweaty which was due to the poison running through his veins now. Even with his enhanced DNA it couldn’t be helped- it wouldn’t kill him like most people- but it did make him feel like crap.

Connor filled the sink with warm water and took out a flannel and proceeded to wipe the wounds gently to wash away any dirt and grim he could. Placing a few gauze onto his chest and taping it into place proved difficult but not unimaginable and soon enough Connor was tucked into his bed with a jumper covering his chest but shivering slightly under the covers.

Head pounding and stomach rolling he laid there for several hours simultaneously wishing for Holtz and David to be there with him. Memories of Holtz sitting with him and actually doing something other than battle plans, hunting strategies, or weapons training was always something he liked as a child even if the only times it happened were when he was injured. Other memories showed images of Connor at various ages cradled in David’s arms and watching his favourite cartoon whilst his Grandfather was sat in his recliner watching over his grandson with a worried eye. Yet he couldn’t exactly ask for either of them- Holtz was dead and lied to him his entire life- and David would want to know why Connor was ill. Besides as Connor grew older those moments of care declined and David would probably just send someone over to see if he needed anything and continue with his work.

Connor gave a groan- even Angel’s attempts to comfort him would be appreciated right now. He could just imagine Angel stood awkwardly in the corner and trying to figure out what his son would want whilst injured or sick. Shifting on the mattress Connor gave a huff and winced at the spike of pain that shot through him. Trying to get comfortable Connor shut his eyes and knew if he would rest his body would deal with the poison easier.

Just as he got comfortable he phone started ringing and with a sigh Connor grabbed the phone and answered.

“What?” he grunted.

“Well, that’s not a nice greeting,” came the dry tone of Sarah.

“What do you want?” Connor grunted.

“Okay- someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Sarah retorted and Connor could sense the anger in her tone. Connor gave a wince as he realised he was not being Connor Sheppard but rather Angel/Holtz who would have wanted the conversation to be over quickly and snapped and insulted the person whilst doing so.

“Sorry, what’s up? You okay?” Connor asked whilst trying to not let any pained noises out.

“Nothing- just ringing. You alright? You sound different,” Sarah asked. She was right his tone was defiantly not normal due to the poison running through his veins. It hurt to breath.

“Fine, just feeling a little tired,” Connor replied whilst wishing the conversation was over. It was easier demon hunting when the people he knew where all in the know about the supernatural. His memories as Connor Sheppard didn’t have any experience with lying beyond what a normal teenage boy lies about. And Sarah was an expert in seeing through his lies.

“You sure?” Sarah asked, “It doesn’t sound like it.”

“Yes,” he gritted out and winced at the tone.

“Ugh!” Sarah grunted and he heard the tapping of keys and the laptop on his own desk that was on standby whirled to life and Skype popped up and Sarah’s face filled the screen.

“No fair using your superpower!” Connor whined whilst trying to move deeper into his covers whilst not wincing.

“You’re not okay! What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, he could see her lean closer to her webcam as if it would allow her to see more.

“Nothing, just a little under the weather,” Connor replied trying to be convincing but he did feel awful so he didn’t think it would work.

“You look almost grey Connor,” Sarah commented, “you going to the doctor?”

“I’ll be fine after some rest,” Connor stated.

“Really? Cause it doesn’t look that way. Where’s Eric?” Sarah questioned.

“He’s gone home for the weekend- it’s his Mom’s birthday I think,” Connor replied whilst wishing he could just sleep.

“I can ring Grandma and get her to come with some things,” Sarah suggested.

“Mrs. Layla doesn’t need to come. She left me a well stocked medicine cabinet when I moved. I’ll be fine. Just need rest,” Connor said whilst closing his eyes.

“Fine, but I’ll check in this evening. If you aren’t on the mend tomorrow I’ll call Grandma and she’ll drag you to a doctor,” Sarah stated firmly. Connor gave a nod and heard his laptop beep and cracked an eye open to make sure she was actually gone.

Whilst the dorm was much more comfortable than his apartment in LA he couldn’t help but want it- there would be no-one to check up on him and he had that kick-ass polar bear to talk to. Or even the Hyperion with Fred and Gunn trying to help him…or Angel and Cordelia…

With a wince Connor settled down into his cocoon and slowly drifted into darkness as the pain and exhaustion kicked in.

00000


	18. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Elizabeth argue. Connor wants everyone to know that this is _not _what it looks like and Dr. Lam makes an appearance.__

They haven’t argued like this since that very first year.

The thing is, John understands her course of action. He really does but---

“I was under the impression that you trusted my judgment.”

“I do trust you, John,” Elizabeth snaps at him annoyed at the constant circling their discussion has taken on.

“You obviously don’t. I told you what I wanted to do. Heightmeyer and I had the entire thing scheduled. You couldn’t have waited two more hours?”

“As leader of this expedition, it is my responsibility to ensure the safety of our people.”

“You forget, Dr. Weir,” John replies coolly, knowing that what he says next was going to put a definite strain on their relationship. “ That I am the military commander of this base and any concerns about the safety of this base and it’s inhabitants will go through me. Do we understand each other, Dr. Weir?”

She purses her lips and meets his gaze head on, “I understand you’re upset Colonel but don’t let that color your judgment. Nothing that I have done has been outside my purview and you know that. I will admit that I should have informed you of my intentions first but I was afraid that you would let your personal feelings control you.”

John blinks, taken back. “What?”

“You’re too close to this. Can you honestly tell me that this situation doesn’t effect you in anyway?” Elizabeth gently asks, grateful when some of the tension in the room dissipates.

“You think I would ever knowingly allow anyone to endanger Atlantis? That I wouldn’t take precautions?”

John was insulted but before he couldn’t wind up for a truly impressive dressing down, Elizabeth adds, “I don’t want you to get hurt either. This entire situation is outrageous and I can’t help but think you’re being targeted in someway.”

‘Its hard to keep up any righteous indignation when the person you’re angry with goes and makes sense.’ John thinks, grinding his teeth.

\---

‘Of course the Colonel’s nephew would try to kill himself on my watch’ Private Lewis thinks in absolute dismay.

No one was supposed to know about any familial relations between their guest and CO but, this being Atlantis, no secret was safe.

This was suppose to be an easy assignment and so far the only trouble they’d have with their newest arrival was coaxing him out of his room so imagine their surprise when Atlantis’ alarms suddenly goes nuts and the room door opens.

Lewis has survived this long by being prepared for anything.

He is not prepared to see their ward standing in the middle of his room digging a scalpel into his arm. There is a beat of horrified silence as he and his partner Ruiz just stare, then he’s calling for a medical team and Ruiz is trying to talk him down.

“It’s okay, son, just put the knife down,” Ruiz inches forward, hand out appeasing and body language open.

Connor stares at him, eyes wide in surprise before dropping the scalpel, “I wasn’t---this isn’t--- I was not trying to kill my-self!”

“Then what were you doing?” Ruiz questions keeping the conversation going as Lewis disappears into the bathroom and comes back with a towel.

Connor doesn’t move as Lewis grabs his arm and wraps the towel around it keeping a firm pressure on it.

“I just wanted to leave,” Connor looks dazed and Lewis doesn’t blame him since his arm looks like it went through a meat grinder. He really doesn’t want to know what was going through the guy’s head that he could just do that to him self.

The blood soaks through the towel pretty fast and he wraps another one over it wishing that the Doc and his team would hurry the hell up as Connor sways and drops to his knees. He kneels next to him taking his weight as Connor leans on him.

“I don’t feels so good,” Connor declares.

“I know you don’t but Doctor Carson is on the way and he’ll have you right as rain.”

“Right as rain,” Connor slurs, “the hell does that even mean?”

“It’s just a saying. It means you’ll be okay.”

“It’s a stupid saying.” Connor finally says after a moment of consideration, “It’s not going to be okay.”

When the med team shows up, Connor is unconscious in a recovery position and Lewis’ pants are completely soaked in blood.  
Beckett takes everything in at a glance and starts barking orders to everyone in the room. One of his nurses manages to smoothly switch places with the private and in a matter of moments they have Connor on his way to the infirmary, leaving the two marines to stare at each other.

\---

As per protocol, the senior staff is automatically notified whenever a med-team is requested.

Sheppard finds himself pacing up and down the corridor constantly shifting from worried to rage.

Elizabeth left about an hour before either fed up with his glares or to resolve some problem in the gate-room. Any resolution he’d found with Elizabeth had gone straight out the window and though he knew he wasn’t being fair it made him feel better to know he has someone to blame.

I just wanted to leave, that’s what Connor told Lewis. Was being reminded of whom he was so bad that Connor would go to such extremes to escape?

Sheppard was sure and to be honest he didn’t know Connor. He had no pass experiences with his nephew that he could possibly use to predict his reactions.

He didn’t want to think about what it says about him that the only time he’d shown any interest in him was when Connor had gone missing.

He grimaces and shook the thought from his head as Beckett finally walks out into the hall.

\---

While Atlantis’ leaders were at each other throats and her father and SG-1 are fooling around on the set of the Wormhole Extreme show, Doctor Carolyn Lam is busy in the lab running the blood sample sent by Doctor Beckett against the three provided to her by General O’Neill.

As the computer does its comparisons she automatically does a check for any infections in the sample from Atlantis while Nurse Michaels looks on. The Lieutenant arrived on the base at the same time she did and they had bonded over being the newcomers.

And he’d been the only one that didn’t expect her to be the next Doctor Major Janet Fraiser.

“Whose samples are these?” Michaels asks curiously. He normally wouldn’t but if this was something confidential then Lam would never have perform the tests in a room full of people.

Carolyn shrugs distractedly as she studied the first results; 100% match. “General O’Neill requested I do the test blind. I suspect he doesn’t want prior knowledge to in any way contaminate my findings.”

Blaring sirens cuts off any further inquires that Michaels could make.

“Unscheduled Off-World Activation.” 

Like a well oiled machine medical personnel headed into the infirmary ready for any incoming patients. It wasn’t until she hears Walter’s voice requesting a medical team to the Gate Room that Carolyn pulls herself away from the screen to await any patients the Orange team brought back.

Finding himself alone in the lab, curiosity gets the best of him and he picks up the yellow envelope on the desk and takes out the flash drive. Quickly sliding it into the computer, Michaels opens the only file on the drive and is surprised to see only three lines.

 

Sample # 1: Connor Sheppard taken by LAPD crime scene unit

Sample # 2: David Sheppard

Sample # 3: Colonel John Sheppard

 

Michaels raises an eyebrow and looks for the message Doctor Beckett sent through and could only stare in disbelief.

Hours later when Carolyn final makes it back to the lab everything is as she left it and all the results are done. The second result shows a 99.999% percent match for paternity and the third shows a kinship index of above 1.00.

That done she picks up the envelope and lets the flash drive slide into her hand slightly bewildered because she could swear it was on the left side of the desk.

She completely forgets any suspicion once she reads what’s in the file.


	19. Getting to Know Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor wakes up.

Connor wakes to the smell of disinfectant and the Colonel’s steady gaze. He ignores the older man for the moment, preferring instead to raise his hands up to study the wrappings covering the length of his arms. It’s embarrassing, really, the damage he’s done in his panic; even more so the conclusion the people of this city would have come to.

Not that he particularly cares what these people think but he had believed that he’d overcome his more… dramatic outbursts. 

Like the time he’d tried to blow up a store full of people just because he’d wanted to kill his self.

More importantly, he’s completely astounded at his own stupidity. How did he not know that Darla was real after all the times she’s given him information that he never would have known with out her?

But instead of catching a clue, he’d just thought she was something he’d conjure up to cope with his lonely self-appointed mission.

“Does it hurt,” the Colonel asks him, tone nonchalant but Connor twitches at the sound of voice anyway. He sighs and finally sits up, peering up at the man from beneath his shaggy fringe.

“I…no. Just kinda itches,” he answers and Sheppard finally stands up from the chair he was so carelessly sprawled in and drags it closer to the bed. He pours water from a pitcher on the table into a cup and hands it to Connor. Once he’s sure Connor won’t drop it, he sits again, resting his elbows next to Connor’s knees and gazes at him effectively ensuring that he has Connor’s complete attention.

It makes him uncomfortable. He doesn’t get the sense that Sheppard is dangerous (to him at least, Connor is pretty sure that there is a vigilantly chained monster behind those eyes) but he’s had his carefully erected reality destroyed by one stupid (horrible, heartbreaking) video and he is utterly sure that this man isn’t going to allow him his delusions.

“I suppose,” Sheppard starts and Connor braces himself to give answers to questions he hasn’t had the time to consider, “that we haven’t had much of an introduction, huh?”

He blinks. This definitely wasn’t how he imagined this conversation.

“My name is John Sheppard and, as I’m sure you’ve figured out already, I’m your uncle,” Sheppard is still staring up at him making it hard to avoid this conversation without blatantly dismissing him so Connor sips at the water. It tastes a bit brackish, probably has been sitting there for a while, but the room temperature liquid feels exquisite as it trickles down his throat and he empties it without thought.

The Colonel---John takes the cup from him and refills it. There is a ghost standing over his shoulder with a smug look on her face. Connor looks away and takes the cup back.

“I’m Connor,” he replies, rolling the cup carefully between his hands.

“It’s nice to meet you Connor. I know you haven’t seen much of the city yet but what do you think?”

And he was officially confused. Connor expects to be grilled about what happened not questioned about how pretty he thinks the man’s house is

“It’s nice, I guess and big. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Connor admits and John’s eyes soften.

“She is amazing. Atlantis has gotten us out of tight spots more times than I can count.”

“Who built it? It definitely wasn’t the U.S Government,” Connor asks, allowing his curiosity to show.

“We call them the Ancients but the people of this galaxy called them the Ancestors. They were a group people, scientist really, responsible for seeding life in this galaxy.”

“And they just let you have their city?”

John gives a wry smile, “They aren’t exactly around to challenge for ownership.”

“Finders keepers?” Connor jokes.

“Now you’re getting it,” John replies with a nods and Connor finally relaxes.

Time passes as they make idle conversation and Connor almost forgets where he is and why he’s there in the first place until the door slides open with a hiss and Doctor Beckett enters. 

The doctor looks up from the padd in his hands and gives them both a disapproving frown.

“Colonel,” Beckett drawls in a thick brogue and John immediately gets a shifty look in his eyes.

“Weren’t you supposed to notify me the moment he woke up?”

\-----------

It seems like his latest actions has revoked his privilege of having his own room and he stays in the infirmary for the next few days. Leaving crosses his mind but even if he makes it out the room, where was he going to go. The city was sitting in the middle of the ocean and Connor had never learnt how to swim.

On the day Connor’s wounds looks like year old scars, a pair of marines escorts him to a room high up in one of Atlantis’ spires. There is a blond woman waiting for them and she waves him in while the marines stay outside.

It’s a spacious room, lined with bookshelves and plants. The huge windows allow the natural ambient light to illuminate the room and Connor has to admit the view is astounding. 

When he’s done taking everything in he turns his attention back to the woman who is silently watching him.

She gives him a small smile and holds out her hand.

“Hello, Connor. I’m Doctor Kate Heightmeyer. I must say that it is a pleasure to finally meet you face to face.”

“You too, Doctor, I guess,” he replies, shaking her hand. She motions him to sit on the couch while she takes one of the armchairs.

“You can call me Kate, if you like. We will, after all, be spending a lot of time together.”

“Will we?”

“I’m not going to insult your intelligence and I’ll like you to extend the same courtesy towards me. So, tell me Connor, why do you think we are here today?”

He scowls, irritated. He was quite sure this woman was going to put up with any bullshit.

“You want to know why I did what I did,” he snaps out but she just nods, professional smile never leaving her face.

“I would like to know why but more importantly I want to know whatever you’d like to tell me,” her pen scratches over the legal pad on her lap.

“My favorite color?” Connor mocks. 

“If you like,” she replies with an amused quirk of her lips. “Helping someone doesn’t always mean digging into their psyche. Sometimes, it helps to just give them someone to talk to.”

“I don’t have anything to talk about,” he mumbles, trailing one of his hands on the soft worn leather couch.

“Everyone has something to talk about…even if it’s just the weather. In case you’re interested, I’ve been told that it promises to be a breezy eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit with a chance of whale sightings.”

Connor snorts, rolling his eyes. 

They spend a few minutes in silence with only the scratching of her pen echoing in the room before Connor finally spoke.

“How is Doctor Weir? John seemed really concerned.”

Concerned was an understatement. Kate was sure that everyone is the city was under pressure to find a way to save their leader and it was Kate’s job to help everyone cope with the very real possibility that they may not be able to rid her of the nanites that infects her brain.(1)

“Doctor Beckett and his staff is doing everything they possible can to resolve the situations. Colonel Sheppard told you about the situation?”

“No, I over heard him talking to the guy that shot me,” Connor absentmindedly answers.

“I see,” Kate muses and makes a mental note to add highly developed sense of hearing to his file because she’d been there when McKay had notified Sheppard and they’d been down the hall from Connor’s closed room.

“We have the very best working here in Atlantis. I have absolute confidence in their abilities.”

“The city feels on edge.”

“Unfortunately, it is like that here more often than not, especially our first year here.”

“What was that like?” he asks, a curious gleam in his eyes. “This place is nothing like Earth.”

Kate smiles wistfully. “Oh, it’s definitely nothing like Earth. It was scary in the beginning… and a hell of a lot of times after that but when we weren’t fighting for our lives, I found the Pegasus galaxy fascinating. The people, cultures, beliefs…. We were always learning.

“Being here compelled us to evolve our ways of thinking if we wanted to survive. And our first year here, isolated from Earth, forced us to become closer that we normally would have been… especially on a military founded assignment. We only had each other and even now, reconnected to Earth, Atlantis is our real home. Have you ever felt that? When your life is so completely amalgamated to a place and group of people that being separated hurts right down to your soul?”

He gives the question serious thought. 

Quor’toth… he’d known from the time he was young that he would be leaving that hell dimension no matter what. Not because he didn’t belong there but because killing Angelus was his only mission in life.

Holtz had been the man who raised him. He taught him how to read and write and, most importantly, how to survive. But he hadn’t been loved… or maybe he had been but his memories of Holtz will forever be tainted by his last act in life.

The summer alone with Fred and Gunn is one he will forever treasure even if he was the one the messed it all up.

And Cordelia and Jasmine are two people he doesn’t like to think about.

He thinks about Angel next, the reason he was doing all of this but Angel was never his home because by the time he’d gotten the stick out of his ass and stop taking all his hurt and anger on everyone else, Angel was doing his suicide charge against the partners.

And David? Well, David isn’t really his dad, now is he?

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever had that,” Connor admits, miserably.

“Then I want you to perform an exercise for me when you leave. You don’t have to tell me the results but I think it will help you,” she waits until she receives a reluctant nod before continuing.

“Every night before you go to bed, I want you to close you eyes and think about home, and write down the first thing pops in your head. Do you think you can do that for me?”

He nods again, watching the pen dance across the paper.

“What are you writing?” Connor finally asks, desperate to change the subject.

Kate looks down at her lap, “I always suggest engaging in a hobby to my patients and well… I am not above taking my own counsel so I picked up drawing last year and Major Lorne is a phenomenal teacher.” 

She turned the pad around with an embarrass look. “I, however, seem to have zero talent for it.”

Connor stares at it for moment and laughs softly.

It was a horribly drawn stick figure of Connor sitting on the couch.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Season 3 Episode 6 The Real World- Dr. Weir is infected with nanites which cause her to believe that she is in a Psychiatric Hospital and Atlantis is a figment of her imagination.


End file.
